Posts Tagged ‘Winter’
Teamwork Challenged
Yesterday, I experienced a classic example of a frequent challenge Cyndie and I have been navigating to varying degrees over the 35+ years of our life together as husband and wife. Our minds sometimes tend to operate out of sync from one another, despite our best intentions.
It was a beautiful winter day outside, with a lot of blue sky and sunshine, a comfortable temperature, and minimal breezes. We headed out to give Delilah some exercise by letting her run loose in the pastures while throwing discs for her to chase. We walked right past the horses, cutting through their paddock to get out into the hay-field.
On our way back in, Cyndie said she wanted to pay a little visit to the horses. While milling around with them, Cyndie decided to scoop some of the fresh manure under foot. That inspired me to grab a pitch fork and clean the edges of the large pile we have been creating during the snow season.
When she was done cleaning up, Cyndie said she would take Delilah out for one last session of running loose in the back pasture. In a very short time, I was commenting on their quick return.
“Delilah’s tired and I’m getting cold, so we are going to head up.” she reported.
I told her I would finish what I was doing and then follow them shortly. Earlier, Cyndie had asked me what shovel I had used in the past to make a winter path through the labyrinth. I told her the trick is to just walk the route wearing snowshoes, implying we could do that later in the day, after lunch.
As I walked up to the barn to put away my pitch fork, Cayenne turned and approached me for some loving. I soaked up her attention and lingered for what seemed like a long time to me, staying engaged as long as she maintained interest. It’s funny how much hot breath, wet nose, and sloppy tongue seems perfectly acceptable when a horse is choosing to nuzzle and mingle. I searched for a sweet-spot of scratching for her, moving between her ears, neck and chest.
Eventually, what ended our little love fest was Legacy, coming over from the other side of the overhang. I don’t know what reason he had to finally interrupt, but I tried spending a little time with him to see if he was just hoping for similar attention. Since he’s not as accommodating to hands-on affection, it comes across more as though he just doesn’t want her to be getting all the fun.
I finally made my way up to the house, ready for a break and some lunch. Stepping inside, I found no one there. Cyndie must have gone down to the labyrinth already, I thought to myself. Looking out back, sure enough, I spotted Delilah moving around down there. I rallied my energy and decided to join her.
First, I looked in the garage for the snowshoes, but couldn’t find them anywhere. Did we leave the second pair at the lake? Oh well, I’ll grab the plastic shovel, just in case I can find a way to use that to help. The shovel wasn’t where I keep it, either. Frustrated that I couldn’t execute my plan, I walked down empty-handed.
I arrived just in time. Cyndie said she needed my help with figuring out where the turns should be.
Imagine this, it turned out she had brought down the second pair of snowshoes and the plastic shovel, in case I wandered past on my way up to the house.
Now, why didn’t I think of that?
Welcome to my world.
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Holding Court
When the weather outside returns to single-digit cold, there is added incentive to spend a little more time indoors. After work yesterday, I sat down and leaned the recliner back for a little relaxing review of the latest newsworthy offerings from a multitude of front pages on the internet. 
It didn’t take long for our furry friends to join me at that location. Cyndie captured the moment for posterity. I was holding court with our crew.
I read them some of the most outrageous blurbs, but they both ignored the content. Delilah just wanted more scratching, while Pequenita simply wished Delilah would go away.
I switched to telling them tales from this week’s commute to and from work. One morning I had the pleasure of moving in a group of vehicles stuck behind the dreaded slow ambulance with flashing lights.
It moseyed along at a speed about 5 miles an hour slower than the prevailing desired rate of travel. No one dared to pass him, because if you are in front of an emergency vehicle with it lights flashing, you are supposed to pull over and let it pass. Meanwhile, other cars ahead of the ambulance were noticing the lights and pulling over, subsequently becoming added vehicles to our ever-increasing pack.
It was odd to see this huge group of cars slowly “rushing” down the highway together toward their diverse destinations.
On the way home, on a section of divided 4-lane expressway, I spotted a car ahead of me that was having dramatic difficulty maintaining position in the right lane, both crossing the center line and moving off to the right shoulder. It was a little scary to witness. I wondered if it was alcohol related or a case of texting while driving.
I decided to get around the car by passing in the left lane. As I made my way cautiously past, I glanced over to assess the likely reason for the poor lane management. I can’t swear it wasn’t alcohol related, but the easy explanation and my first impression was that it was probably age-related.
The driver was a little old man who could barely see over the steering wheel. I am fairly certain he wasn’t doing any texting.
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Full disclosure: No animals were injured in the creation of this post.
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Liquid Water
Even with the temperatures back under 32° (F) all day and night again, there is water on one of our trails that hasn’t re-frozen. I can only guess that it might be because there is enough volume moving past that spot toward lower ground. Flowing water is more resistant to freezing.
It takes a long dry spell in the summer for that spot to completely dry out, so it is no surprise that water is present now. I just find it odd that there isn’t more freezing going on.
Walking along on the crunchy snow of the trail, it’s weird to suddenly come upon a splash and a squish on a cold winter day.
I suppose I should get used to it. Seems like this winter we are getting as many rain events as snowfalls. Today’s weather forecast includes chances of rain and snow with a high temperature of 38°.
This ain’t my daddy’s winter weather.
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Moving Snow
Yesterday’s weather was a wonderfully ideal day for moving snow. After all the abuse we have endured so far this winter, from extreme cold, terribly windy, to freezing rain, we finally came to a day with warm sunshine, perfect below freezing temperatures, and negligible winds.
That came in very handy following an appointment I had with an arborist from a tree-trimming service. We have so many trees that need attention that we had to devise a plan that would be affordable. It’s not based on the individual trees, but on a set amount of time. We are going to have a crew here for 2 days to do as much work as possible.
That puts responsibility on me to make it as easy as possible to reach my highest priority trees.
In order to get to the most trees in those brief two days, their truck with a boom and basket will be essential. I need to clear a lot of snow from trails to allow their very large truck to get where I need it to go.
Any time they would spend trying to drive their truck through snow, with a risk of getting stuck, will come at the expense of valuable minutes cutting branches.
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I started plowing around the barn with the four-wheeler, finishing with hand-shoveling, to widen access as much as possible. After that I headed onto our trails, trying to split the difference between plowing snow and just trying to maintain forward momentum.
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I made a good start down the trails, but there is a lot left to be done today. Our trees may think I’m nuts to be moving all this snow beneath them, but won’t they be surprised when the cutting crew shows up for the main event.
It’ll be time for them to shape up and drop all that dead wood they’ve been holding for years.
I’m looking forward to having branches come down when we want them to, as opposed to the possibility of falling unexpectedly when some unsuspecting soul happens to be strolling beneath.
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Finally Happened
It finally happened. My luck ran out. After an untold tens-of-thousands of miles commuting to and from work without an accident, my new Subaru got its bumper smashed yesterday. The first three days of this week were a mighty challenge of winter driving. On my way home on Monday, a car directly in front of me on the interstate started fishtailing on the slippery surface. While I coaxed my vehicle to a stop, I watched him spin sideways and bump the concrete barrier with the front of his car.
If I had been unable to stop, I would have t-boned his car right on the driver’s side door. I figured it was sheer luck that the car behind me was able to stop in time, as well. The guy in front of me backed his car up and turned back into our lane and we all resumed forward progress and proceeded on our way, traveling just a tad slower than before.
When the impact occurred yesterday afternoon, I felt no sense of shock. It was more shocking to me that an accident hadn’t already happened in any number of occasions when risk was high over the years. This one just proved to verify what I figured was inevitable. If I am going to spend as many hours driving in traffic as I do, then my odds of an eventual collision climb with each passing trip.
The sad irony of yesterday’s accident is that the recent precipitation had ended and roads were cleaner than they had been for days. Visibility was clear, which was a big bonus. Two of my trips in prior days involved precipitation that would freeze on contact with my windshield.
Although the roads were cleaner, they weren’t yet 100% clear. Some lanes and shoulders remained snow-covered. On my short side route to drop off a delivery to one of our customers, I witnessed two different snowplows working to clear ramps and a side road to the fullest extent.
As I navigated back toward access to the interstate, I came around a bend where the right turn lane goes downhill a bit before rising into the turn. It is an intersection with France Avenue, which is a busy main artery. It is not uncommon to meet with a backup of cars at this right turn lane while waiting for the long light which favors the primary avenue.
If there is a chance to make that corner before cross traffic resumes, it pays not to dawdle.
Yesterday, anyone making that blind approach around a corner into the downhill turn lane with too much momentum was doomed. The surface was an incredibly frictionless glazed slurry of salty, sleety slush. Go ahead and read that out loud three times fast. In the time it takes you to do that, several car bumpers will have crunched.
In my case, I spotted the vehicle in front of me struggling with loss of grip and immediately began working my car to a stop without hitting anyone. My Crosstrek came to rest at a 45° angle to the lane. I barely had time to gloat over my deft maneuvering before the car behind me made solid impact.
After moving to a spot beside the turn lane, I waited for police protection to give me a chance to remove a dangling piece of plastic and bend metal away from rubbing my tire. I was still way too close to the zone where cars continued to lose control. While waiting, I witnessed (or heard the sound of) 5 additional collisions.
Every time cross traffic forced turning vehicles to wait, a collision was imminent. It was a hard thing to watch.
The police unit that eventually arrived was followed immediately by a salt and sand truck.
While the officer tended to two cars uphill from me which looked to be tangled after impact, I jumped out and worked on my damage. When he tried to walk toward my car to check on me, it was too slippery for him to step, so he skated his way across the gap.
Hearing that I had already exchanged information with the other driver in my collision, he gladly sent me on my way. I was very happy to get out of that danger zone and back on the more manageable dangers of the interstate. With my nerves on edge, I drove home as safely as possible.
Part of me felt a fear I would go from zero accidents, to two in one day if I wasn’t extremely careful.
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Dog Days
It might be the dead of winter, with sub-zero wind-chills, but I am enjoying some dog days lately while filling in for Cyndie on dog walking duties. Delilah has slowly adapted to my increased role, showing signs of gaining renewed respect for my authority, and choosing my company when she’s longing to play.
This means a lot to me, occurring soon after we intensified an effort to re-establish alpha status over her in our pack after she stole my dinner off the counter. She has responded well for the most part, and then not as well between some of those moments.
I have noticed her occasionally becoming obsessed with the flavor of our covered waste basket in the kitchen. When not that, we might find her licking the hand towels hanging on the handle of the oven door.
I think it is her way of recalibrating that uncontrollable urge which led to her making it all the way up to the counter where she could reach my dinner off the plate. She now aims a little lower.
Of course, I would have it that she respect our kitchen so much that the most she would dare do is assure there are no specks of food remaining on the floor, and only doing so after all human activity in the kitchen has been completed.
A guy can dream.
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Slow Feeding
After serving up pans of feed to our four horses, I make sure their slow feeder hay boxes are topped off and ready for the long and cold winter night. They emphatically chomp down the small dose of nutrition provided in the pellets and then move directly to the hay to fuel their internal furnaces against the sub-zero chill.
Last night the evening was so serene I paused with them and recorded the scene.
The slow feeders are a great success for us. Especially when we fill them with hay the horses like.
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Critter Tracks
Monday night we received barely a half-inch of sticky snow, after which the temperature dropped steadily throughout the day yesterday. When I got home from work and took Delilah out for a walk before feeding the horses, there was a very clear display of fresh tracks in the snow that obviously had been created within the roughly 16 hours prior.
The vast majority happened to be easily identifiable as rabbits. I was actually surprised by the significant volume of activity attributable to the little rascals. What do they eat in the winter? Whatever it is, we must have a lot of it and they must be thriving this year.
I was about to declare rabbits as the only animals moving around yesterday until we reached about three-quarters of our travel to the barn and came upon some tracks from much smaller feet. I’m thinking they were probably squirrels or chipmunks.
Then we came upon some wonderful artistry from a little mouse or mole that was splitting time between treading lightly on top of the crust and burrowing some vivid designs through the snow.
I wonder what he was trying to spell out.
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As we turned the corner around the back pasture on our route to the barn, I noticed how the sky revealed the departing weather system that had delivered the small amount of precipitation we received. Behind it are the clear skies that make way for our descent into very cold temperatures.
The next few days will involve single-digit highs and below zero lows.
It’s a little bit like what January is supposed to feel like around these parts.
I may have to start wearing a coat again.
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Night Games
Cyndie’s brother, Ben, and his kids came up to join the fun and quickly set about creating a rink on the lake. After shoveling to create edges, Ben got out a hose and flooded the surface to improve it for skating. With daylight short, the incentive to add lighting was enough to inspire a shopping trip for supplies.
It’s pretty classy. Too bad (said with plenty of sarcasm) I didn’t bring my ice skates.
It has been so long since I skated that the arches of my feet would scream with pain if I suddenly hopped on some blades at this stage of my life.
After helping get things set up and running, I headed inside for warmth and appetizers before dinner. There is no comparison for the comfort of coming inside to food and warmth after acquiring a substantial chill outdoors in the winter.
And appetizers have an extra appeal when one has inadvertently skipped eating lunch earlier in the day. I tagged along with the crowd to town yesterday and sat through an animated feature film in place of a mid-day meal.
The matinée flick didn’t hold a candle to the spy thriller that has been occupying my attention otherwise this week. Watching that has been pretty much the extent of my night games while we’ve been up here.
Today, we head back to the ranch where we will celebrate the dawning of 2017 with our animals.
Good bye, 2016.
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Sticky Mess
Sure, it’s beautiful, but it was a sticky, wet mess of a snowfall yesterday. Today’s episode of the ongoing saga that is our adventures on the ranch involves wet horses, warm winter precipitation, Christmas preparations, and knee replacement recovery.
Who could this be?
Why, it’s none other than our stoic herd leader, Legacy. The wet snow had given his long winter coat a curly design that called out to me for a close-up photograph. I find it interesting that so many of his little ringlets contain a strand of color.
A first impression generally perceives him as a white horse, but he does have a subtle distribution of color to him.
I was walking Delilah around the perimeter of the hay-field fence and the horses were out standing in the wet precipitation in the far distance of the field. The horses are well familiar with our routine of trekking this path and most days pay us little attention. Yesterday, at a moment of pause for Delilah to bury her nose in the snow in search of some potential snack, I noticed Cayenne’s energy kick up a bit toward us.
I stepped up to the fence and invited them over, and to my surprise, they came! It is funny how Legacy reacts to these situations, as Cayenne was definitely the instigator and leading the way, but he makes sure to get right on her flank as leader and protector.
When they have closed the distance, he takes command and steps up to make first contact. The other three obediently concede his authority and stay back a length or two.
We visited for a bit and I took pictures of them. Then it was time to move on with Delilah and the herd responded immediately to my movement by turning and running off through the snow back to the fence line in the distance from which they had come. It was a gorgeous visual, their playful equine energy gallivanting away through the falling wet flakes.
They knew what was on the other end of Delilah’s and my little walk. We completed our loop and made our way back to the barn to do the daily afternoon housekeeping, serve up pans of feed, and refill the hay boxes.
I decided to wait out the falling wet snow before starting the plowing and shoveling routine, so spent the afternoon wrapping Christmas gifts and doing laundry. Cyndie had her last in-home physical therapy session and achieved the milestone of reaching 120° bend on the leg with the new knee. She has completely ditched the walker and is getting around with just a cane.
She went on her first outing last night to a Christmas party of the Wildwood Lodge Club clan, the community of families with vacation homes on Big Round Lake near Hayward, WI.
I can see some light at the end of the tunnel of full responsibility for chores around here, and none too soon. I am exhausted. I think the horses miss seeing Cyndie, and I have to admit, I’m growing tired of being their primary caregiver. It’s a bit much when I am also working full-time an hour’s drive away. Add in the requirement of walking Delilah several times a day and my candle is burning at all three ends.
Happily, Cyndie is active again in the kitchen, so at least I’m no longer needing to pretend I have skills there. The next two days will be a whirlwind of driving to and fro from the ranch to Cyndie’s parents’ house for Christmas events.
I hope I can stay awake behind the wheel.
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Relative Something 