Posts Tagged ‘Winter’
Nuisance Flurries
The weather of late has been a repeating series of nuisance snow flurries that irk me. We get just enough in the way of accumulating flakes that it makes the place look neglected, but hardly enough to warrant plowing or doing any serious shoveling. A few days ago, it became necessary to clear about 6 feet around the door to the barn, because it was blowing into an accumulation that was twice as deep as what actually fell from the sky.
Last weekend I scraped the driveway clean to freshen things up, and then Monday night we collected another inch, just to mess it up again. When I got home from work yesterday, it became evident that we received a little more during the day, making it just deep enough that I felt it needed to be plowed.
While waiting for a ride to my favorite auto repair shop, I shoveled the sidewalk and cleared snow away from the house to simplify the details for plowing later.
I was getting my car back from the shop, where they had changed another sensor in the catalytic converter to get everything working properly again.
After walking Delilah and taking care of chores for the horses, then pausing briefly for my dinner, I was ready to do some plowing.
I brought Delilah outside with me and tethered her near the shop while I cleared snow around the building as the ATV warmed up. It was dark, so I couldn’t easily see whether Delilah was happy with her situation, or not, but I decided to plow more than just up and down the driveway a few times.
Getting around the barn and hay-shed require a lot more monkeying around than just the straight shot running up and down the driveway. It becomes a series of short distances forward, followed by lifting the plow blade, shifting into reverse, re-establishing a position, and then dropping the blade, shifting back into a forward gear, and repeat.
I can do the driveway in about 10-minutes. The rest takes about an hour.
I made Delilah wait. It was easy to justify in my mind, because I fully intended to treat her to an extensive walk before we went back into the house. I don’t know whether she sensed it, or not.
After parking the ATV, I donned snowshoes and hit the trails with the dog. She immediately set off after what I would guess was the trail of a cat. She was in such a hurry that she almost pulled me over several times when my snowshoe would catch partway through my stride.
I’m glad we were doing this in the dark, so nobody could see my awkward stumbling gyrations as I struggled to keep up with our dog in her race after some prowler that was probably already long gone.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
An Experiment
I tried a little experiment yesterday. I treated the Grizzly like a snow machine and did some trail riding. I had the benefit of some aggressive winter tires that were included in the deal when we bought the used ATV, but the results of my experiment did not ultimately produce results I was hoping to achieve.
I was envisioning a wider trail than the skinny packed footprints created by Cyndie when she has been walking Delilah. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to plow the deep snow, because there wasn’t enough traction to overcome the added resistance, I hoped to at least skim off an upper layer while packing down the edges under the wheels.
One of the reasons that didn’t work is that the blade would still dig in at times because the terrain isn’t perfectly flat. I had to lift the blade to a point it was rarely skimming any snow at all.
That produced a final result of two deep ruts on the outside with a narrow plateau in the middle. It didn’t solve the narrow path issue that annoys me.
The best way to get what I want is to purposely trudge the foot trail wider and wider as you go. It is a process that takes time to achieve, although not really all that long if you are walking it 3-times a day with a dog. I have taken to putting on snow shoes this weekend, to more quickly widen and pack the main perimeter route, even though that adds unwanted preparation time to the exercise of getting geared up for a simple walk.
If I was dead set on using the ATV, I could drive the trails over a series of days and make enough progress to plow it down, since the snow will re-freeze each night and provide increasingly better traction for the wheels, but that’s not really what I want.
Given a choice, I prefer a human-powered solution, as well as the aesthetic outcome that a foot path through the woods provides.
I’m going to keep strapping on the snowshoes for a few days.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Morning Walk
I recorded a portion of yesterday’s walk, capturing Delilah’s routine of pouncing the snow in search of a snack. No critters were harmed in the making of this movie.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Above Zero
I am intrigued by how noticeable a relief it is when our temperature climbs back above zero (F) after an extreme cold snap. There’s an almost magical difference in how it feels. After a full day indoors at work yesterday, I stepped out the door and was immediately aware of the softer feel in the air.
It doesn’t necessarily come across as being warm, but there is a definite lack of it feeling mercilessly, brutally cold.
I don’t know if any of this has anything to do with the headlights in my car burning out, but it seems to me that I always find myself changing a bulb when it is uncomfortably cold for my hands to do so. Even though it is above zero, it is still cold for a hand to be navigating down through limited space of dirty metal and plastic, and then awkwardly trying to press a release tab to wrestle a reluctant connector out of a socket.
It’s worth it to me though, because I really don’t like having only one working headlight. I noticed the reflection of my padiddle in the tailgate of a truck while approaching a stoplight. I was headed to get gas on my way home yesterday, and the station is located very close to an auto parts store.
How convenient.
I successfully replaced the bulb within an hour of discovering the need, despite the not-below-zero-but-still-hard-on-the-hands cold temperature. I’m pretty sure that was a personal best time interval for me.
Cyndie leaves for Florida today, but before she goes, her plan is to take the blankets off the horses. I’m a big advocate of letting them adjust au naturel, and the weekend may bring a warm up that gets us above freezing, so it seems like a chance to give them a break from the straight jackets.
I think they will be happy with that. But that’s coming from a guy who prefers to sleep naked, so my opinion is probably biased.
As long as we anthropomorphize how cold they must feel, it would stand to reason to assume they grow weary of the constricting confines of the blankets, as well.
I’m going to assume they have the same reaction as I do, to the incredible difference in how the winter air feels after a cold spell breaks.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Chilly Chillin’
When I got home from work yesterday, Cyndie wasn’t back from an errand to Hudson, so it became my responsibility to take Delilah for a walk. Cyndie anticipated her arrival would be shortly thereafter and that she could tend to the horses.
Fine with me. Ms. Canine greeted me at the door, sweet as could be, and appeared perfectly thrilled over the opportunity to get outside, regardless the ongoing deep freeze we were experiencing.
It was an agenda-free stroll. We just hung out together.
I started with a little bush-whacking through undisturbed snow along one of our trails that hadn’t been traveled for a long time. Delilah loved it. There were plenty of fresh scents from critters for her to investigate, and several opportunities for her very fox-like “pounce.” She cocks her head to listen and then leaps straight up with all 4 paws, so that her nose-down landing, deep into the snow, will be a total surprise attack.
Cute as heck, but she very rarely seems to be on the right track. Makes me wonder what spawns the sudden dramatic maneuvers, either sound or scent. Maybe both. She obviously shows signs of listening, but I am never sure whether that is because she smelled something first, or not.
We made our way over toward the horses in the large paddock. They all seemed to be biding their time until they could get inside to the bedding of wood shavings in their stalls for some long winter naps. Even a thin metal roof overhead is good enough to offer a noticeable buffer from the bitter cold that seems to fall directly from outer space. They show signs of being keenly aware of that advantage when the nighttime temperatures head into double digits below zero.
I glanced toward the orange glow of the setting sun and spotted a nice view of the steam that rises off the cooking compost pile. With the air so bitter cold, it is all the more fascinating that the microorganisms breaking down the pile of sullied bedding generate temperatures to 140° (F) and beyond.
The pile gets a thick version of hoarfrost from the steam, which provides a nice touch of drama on top of the otherwise unsavory mound.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
New Sitters
I’m not quite sure why, but something about this past weekend felt surreal. Part of it was probably a result of the extreme cold accompanied by a dangerous windchill, which limited my time outdoors. Part of it was the unnatural amount of time I spent in front of the television, watching NFL playoff games.
Playoff games can be disorienting, when you have no emotional attachment to the outcome. It means so much to the players and fans on the screen, but in my home, the drama and spectacle were meaningless. Delilah, Cyndie, and Pequenita were oblivious to it all.
Cyndie is preparing to visit her parents in Florida for a couple of weeks. That is a little unnerving for me, contemplating how I will manage both the day-job and the ranch detail without her. She has a plan for that. In an ongoing quest to recruit potential horse-sitters, she recently came upon an interesting combination.
Following up on a couple of leads, one from our vet, and another from a hygienist in our dentist’s office, she learned about two local people. It was a surprise to us that the two happened to be well acquainted with each other. One woman had been a babysitter for the other, years ago. Now they both have horses of their own and do pet sitting jobs regularly. Last Thursday they came to meet our herd and discuss the details of how they could give Delilah attention and feed our horses on mornings that I leave early for work.
What wonderful luck to find two people at once who can split the job and provide full coverage for us, despite their varied individual availability.
There is hope that the bitter cold will release its grip after today. That means we will be able to keep the horses outside at night again, which will save me from the chore of cleaning the stalls every day.
This is a view of the back side of the barn. Legacy’s window is on the left, Dezirea’s window on the right. When they are cold or wet, the horses congregate at the door, wanting to get inside.
The new sitters were surprised we didn’t just open the door and let them go inside on their own. We decided to give it a try. I was down cleaning the waterer when Cyndie let them in.
It was a little chaotic. She had put up a rope to confine them to the side where their stalls are located, but it was just enough change, on top of the fact they were free to find their way, that they seemed to get a little confused.
Dezirea went into her stall, but then came back out again, Legacy was checking out everyone’s stall, and Cayenne was flustered and just stood in the aisle-way. Hunter hustled in behind her and suddenly there was a traffic jam. It sounded kind of funny to me, but it was risky enoCyndie said she was going to walk them in individually again next time.
There isn’t really enough space for our 4 large Arabians to do a free-style entrance into their stalls. We’re going to stick with the routine that has been working well for us thus far.
If the weather warms up like it is expected to, it won’t be an issue for a while now, anyway.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Passing Middle
As long as I am writing about calendar days, it occurs to me that, not only are we passing the middle of the month of January, we are essentially heading into the second half of our long winter.
There are several ways that I can gauge this. We have almost devoured the first full rack of firewood that we stacked on the deck.
We are about halfway through the hay stored in our hay shed.
We have filled just over half the space where we store composting manure during the cold months.
In terms of weather, this weekend we are due to receive the coldest blast of Arctic air of the winter. There are warnings posted about dangerous wind chills on Sunday through Monday morning.
After we get through this, it is expected to warm up to El Niño-driven-warmer-than-usual temperatures for this time of year. I’m okay with that. Even if I live a long and healthy life, by conventional standards, it is reasonable to think that I am past the middle of my years on this planet. I am growing more satisfied with mild weather than I was in my younger days.
I checked the level of propane in our big tank yesterday, to make sure we don’t need to order more yet. It is less than half full, but there is enough to get through the winter at the rate we use it.
I have a sense of being on the downhill side of things, which provides an impression things should be easier. We get to coast.
Could it be that we are even passing the middle of a change in our climate? Thinking about the coldest possible temperature of the winter reminded me of the remarkable graphic posted by Paul Huttner in his weather blog, “Updraft.”
Look at the trend line of the oscillating minimum temperatures recorded in the Twin Cities in my lifetime. If this keeps going, I could live during a year when temperatures here don’t even dip below zero.
That would seem like coasting through a winter.
In my advancing years, I think I will enjoy the ride. In the mean time, bring on today’s deep freeze.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Noticeable Difference
I sat down on the couch after work yesterday and the first thing that caught my attention was the angle of the sunshine radiating through the glass door to the deck. It seemed a lot higher than usual for this time of day. The days have been getting longer since December 21, and now in the second week of January, I’m noticing the change. It’s inspiring!
We have about a day to enjoy a break from extreme cold today, as a warm spell is pushing our temperatures toward the 30s (F), after which it is expected to drop even colder than it was last Sunday and Monday. Brrrr.
Luckily, I will have plenty of indoor entertainment available in the form of televised NFL playoff games in which my team is not participating. That makes them all stress-free for me, because I have no emotional attachment to any other team’s success or failure. If someone’s kicker misses a potential game-winning field goal, I will be able to feel their pain, for sure.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Delilah was gnawing ferociously on a new stuffed duck-looking chew toy that Cyndie bought and suddenly she seemed entranced by how high the sun still was at such an early hour.
Great minds think alike.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Warm Indoors
It has been darn cold the last few days. It has an extra bite because we had been experiencing such un-winterlike conditions up until now, and got lulled into complacency. I finally realized I should pull an actual winter coat out of the closet, the one with my scarf tucked in the sleeve.
I got a good chuckle out of the legendary former Minnesota Vikings coach, Bud Grant, walking out to the ceremonial coin toss prior to last Sunday’s playoff game on national TV, without a jacket on. It was below zero and he was wearing a purple Vikings short-sleeved polo shirt, flaunting the Minnesotan hardiness.
Last night we chose indoor recreation, with a wonderful fire to make it extra warm and cozy. Cyndie had designs on making chicken parmesan, and talked George into bringing his pasta machine over. He showed up with that, and more. Can you say, “homemade ice cream?”
Oh, but that’s not all. He also made chocolate sauce to go with it, and brought some fruit toppings.
Good thing I was appropriately prudent with my choices earlier in the day, and had headroom left over in my sugar quota to enjoy my favorite treat, guilt-free.
The highlight of the evening was Cyndie’s glee over her first successful made-from-scratch pasta making, under George’s helpful tutelage. He arrived in time to intervene on her baking tendency to add flour continuously while working the dough. Together, with a little water, they got the consistency back from being too dry and the pasta turned out great.
We enjoyed a treasure of an evening, laughing in the kitchen while preparing food, luxuriating in sitting down to eat the food, and then hanging by the fireplace to play cards, eat ice cream, play guitars, and thrill in the joy of simply being together.
Indoors. Where it is warm, and life is good.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I stored the ice cream George brought, out on the deck, where it was a lot colder than our freezer. Plus, there wasn’t any spare room in the freezer, anyway.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Relative Something 