Posts Tagged ‘Wintervale Ranch’
Arena Space
Just when we are beginning to see progress on improvement of our hay-field, we go and re-purpose a significant chunk of it for a riding arena. Cyndie has been planning all along to have an arena, and this section of the field wasn’t producing the greatest grass, so we think it is a good location. Per Cyndie’s request, I mowed the field short in that space, and yesterday I measured and placed step-in posts she purchased for a temporary fence.
It gives us a tangible view of what her desired dimensions look like in that spot. It is a little awkward for now, because the area isn’t completely flat. It took me a lot of tries to get it oriented the way I wanted, because so many of the visual references are not square. Combined with the hill, those features created quite a battle between my eye and the tape measure.
Next, I need to install fence polytape on the posts to create a visual barrier that will allow Cyndie to ride the horses in the space. Somewhere down the line, probably after we get a landscaper to install drain tile and improve the surface of the paddocks, we would like to get the arena graded level and then have a layer of sand put down.
I have contacted two different landscaper/excavators who we were referred to for improving our paddocks, and neither one of them has returned my call. It’s frustrating. Our window of opportunity could close for the season before I can get work scheduled, and then we will have another winter/spring of mud hassles to endure.
I might be forced to do some of the work myself, like digging out a better defined drainage swale. The issue I’m most concerned about is how to determine and maintain a proper slope. I haven’t the equipment or the know-how to execute establishing that critical feature. Is that going to become another thing I have to learn how to do myself?
I’m hoping not.
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Pizza Delivered!
We had pizza delivered to our home last night! We learned from our friendly neighbors, George and Rachel, about more local food options when they invited us to join them for dinner at the El Paso Bar & Grill after we finished baling hay over a week ago. They suggested a Chinese take-out restaurant in Ellsworth, which we’ve already tried, and a pizza place that will actually deliver to our location.
With Cyndie now working long days in Anoka, MN, and my food prep skills under-developed, we’ve been relying on restaurants more lately. Even if I was doing the cooking, I wouldn’t have time, as the outdoor work has been keeping me busy until 7 or 8 every night. That’ll change when the sun starts setting noticeably earlier. Gotta get as much done as possible while the days are long. So for now, our dinners haven’t been making much of a mess in the kitchen.
The pizza was good, although the crust was a little under done. It definitely stayed hot on the drive to our house, but probably came out of the oven a tad too soon. It would have made sense for us to put it in our oven for a short bit to crisp it up, but we couldn’t get it separated from the cardboard box well enough to allow that. At least it was covered with plenty of good cheese. We must be in Wisconsin.
We’ll try them again sometime, choosing a different selection of toppings before we make any rash decisions about the overall quality of their pizza.
The food I have been serving has been to our animals. Here is a shot of Dezirea enjoying her morning feed with Delilah looming close in search of any morsels that she can reach. The way that dog fixates on horse and cat food, and even… our pizza, you’d think we never gave her anything of her own to eat.
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Creepy Crawlies
I was mowing the labyrinth yesterday when I had a series of episodes that made my skin crawl. Well, crawl more than usual for a day when I was sticky with sweat from summer’s heat and humidity, working outside with chainsaws and trimmers. There is always some dirt or plant matter pasted to the exposed skin of my arms. In the area I was working, there was also an ongoing battle with a multitude of insects that were taking great interest in my flesh.
Down in the corner of the grazing pasture, on the edge of the woods, I was cutting up the tree I dropped to the ground on Friday, soaked with sweat and covered with debris. It gets hard to know when it is a bug on my skin, or something else. The gloves I wore had loose cuffs, and more than once I pulled them off because I wasn’t sure if what just landed inside was alive or not.
I gained a new appreciation for the horse’s ability to twitch their muscles hard enough to dispatch flies. With both of my hands occupied on the chainsaw or trimmer, I was easy prey for the biting flies and mosquitoes. After a while, it becomes impossible to tell whether I am feeling something on me in a moment, or if it is simply residual sensation after whatever landed has flown away.
It was also a bit unnerving picking up freshly cut logs when I had seen millions of ants had been living inside the tree. Add to that, I am pretty sure that feeding the wood chipper and trimming the trail the day before put me in contact with poison ivy again. My skin was in a state of constant irritation.
It culminated in creepiness late in the process of using the trimmer in the labyrinth. It had been a long day, I was tired, and I really wanted to be done. I had already been forced to stop earlier to reload the supply of plastic line in the trimmer head, so the only remaining delay would be a need for another refueling.
In my push to finish, I didn’t stop to use my toe to convince the little frog to move out of the way, I just cut up behind him, assuming the noise and motion would naturally drive him off like usually happens. For some ghastly reason, he turned and jumped into the lethal spinning line.
That stopped me. I shut off the engine and decided I would fill the gas tank anyway, setting my over-ear hearing protection with face shield on the ground. I topped off the fuel tank while swatting at things bugging my ears and trying to shake the heebie-geebies that frog had just caused.
When I resumed trimming, I continued to have the feeling like there was a bug flying around my right ear, and wanted to let go of the trimmer to wave it away, but I realized I had on my ear protection, so I figured I was feeling residual phantom sensations. Or was it just left-over creepy feelings from watching that frog?
I had to check, stopping to pull off the head-gear. A bug flew out. Really. What are the odds of that? It’s not as far-fetched as what happened next. I tried again to resume my task, and in moments, my left ear felt weird. I figured I was just being paranoid at this point, but was also feeling jumpier by the minute, so I paused the trimmer again and whipped off the ear muffs. GAH! I did the squiggle-jump-flinch as a spider crawled out.
I gotta say, it felt extra-specially-good to finally step out of the shower last night, scrubbed as squeaky clean as physically possible.
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Finally Chipping
My plan was to get both the tractor and the ATV down the hill to the spot where I’m clearing trees to make space for a new fence that will enclose the back grazing area. I put a bundle of tools in the ATV trailer and drove it down, parking between two existing brush piles. Then I walked back up to get the diesel tractor with the wood chipper mounted on the back.
To my surprise, I found the front right tire was completely flat. That certainly wasn’t in my plan.
I pumped it up and verified the leak was serious enough to need attention. The morning agenda suddenly had a new priority. First order of business would involve getting the wheel off the tractor, no small task when you don’t have the proper tools. Five of the six bolts came loose with a reasonable amount of effort, leaving the one that was obligated not to budge, to keep the project from being too straight forward.
Patience —albeit thin— and fortitude, produced eventual results, leading to the second order of business: I needed to find out where to take the wheel for repair. A call to my neighbor produced a recommended service station in town, but that place turned out to be too busy to help me right away. They offered up an alternative. I called the second option and learned they could take a look at it right away.
Now, I definitely know better than to blindly rely on the results produced by a Google maps search, and I even commented to Cyndie that I was surprised it was that direction out-of-town, but nonetheless, I fell for it without a second thought.
After a pleasant drive to discover the error of my ways, which took me down into a beautiful valley where there is absolutely no cell signal, I turned around and drove back up to high ground so I could call for directions. Sure enough, I should have headed the other direction out-of-town. Ironically, this place is where I recently stopped to inquire about finding someone to bid improving the footing of our paddocks. Two businesses operate out of this one location.
They fixed my tire, patching a hole in the tube, and after I got it remounted on the tractor, I was back to my original plan. The rest of the afternoon involved chainsawing and wood chipping. Everything worked pretty well for the rest of the day. I took down some more trees, and created a pile of wood chips by the labyrinth, to be used as mulch.
Working through the dinner hour, and into the mosquito feeding frenzy of early evening, I cleared some of the nearby trail with the trimmer so I could dump a trailer-load of chips there. While doing that, I came to one of the fallen trees that has been blocking the trail since May. Not anymore. I cut it into logs to be split for firewood.
The flat tire was a hassle, but all’s well that ends well. I got a chance to test my ideas and it looks like things are going to work as well as we hoped. The chipper eats brush as fast as I can feed it and the wood chips look perfect for the trail and mulching around plants in the labyrinth.
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Unnecessarily Helpful
Our dog, Delilah, learned too well to use the kiddie pool to wash up before coming in the house. Now she automatically steps in it whether she needs to or not. When it was muddy, this really was an “every time” necessity. Since it has gotten dryer, there are times when a dip in the pool could be skipped.
It’s a sad thing to get frustrated about, but she creates extra work by getting wet, instead of just walking right inside with me. I’ve gotta drop what I’m carrying, go inside while keeping her out, find a towel, and come back out to get licked all over while I try to dry her off.
It’s frustrating, but how can I be mad at her when she is being so darn cute? Plus, there are days when she’s choosing to use it to cool off, not to get clean. I don’t want to deny her that comfort.
She may not need to be washed, but she looks so proud of herself when she does it, I can’t help but thank her for being so darn helpful.
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Morning Light
After the horses finished their morning feed, they moved out into the hay-field. We are giving them access to the big field for a few days, post baling. That gives the grazing pasture a chance to recover a bit. I liked how they looked in the early morning sunlight, and in the absence of having my camera with me, I pulled out my cell phone to capture the image.
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Multiple Priorities
It is such a pleasure to have our hay-field cut and baled, and to have our hay shed filled with what should be enough hay to get us all the way through next winter. The field looks great freshly cut. We opened it up to the horses after the baling was complete, thinking they might run out and revel in the wide expanse of space with available grass to eat. It was rather anticlimactic, because they instead chose to stay close to the paddock fence and graze on the grass growing in the unmowed drainage swale.
Finally yesterday, I witnessed them slowly making their way up the hill along the driveway fence line, tightly grouped in their little herd of four. I guess they are just being cautious.
I opened up the cover of the wood chipper and reclaimed the locking pin I inadvertently tossed in there on Monday. It was a simple procedure, giving me the opportunity to see the cutting blades and how the whole thing works. I sure hope I can put it to use before the end of this week.
With hay under control, it is time to move on to other business. I do hope to mow down the weeds on the small area to the north of the driveway, but cutting down trees and chipping up branches is a high priority that needs to happen before the fencing company shows up to finally start work on enclosing the entirety of the grazing pasture between the hay-field and the woods/labyrinth.
Another high priority for us is finding a landscape company that can take on the task of installing drain tile around the paddocks, and providing gravel and/or sand to improve the ground inside the paddocks during wet times. The one referral we were given is not responding. I’m guessing it is his way of indicating he’s not interested in the job, but a second source said it is likely that he’s just too busy. My neighbor said his prices are good, which is probably why he is too busy.
We really want to get this done while things are dry enough to support trucks loaded with gravel navigating our property. The way things have been around here the last two years, that time period ends up being rather short.
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Bountiful Harvest
You would be wrong if you thought the only thing we harvest at Wintervale is hay. Although, you gotta love that hay is one of our big crops, when our last name is, “Hays.” Of course, you may also be remembering that our horses produce an impressive amount of fertilizer, but as much as I boast about our compost pile, it will be a long time before we will be making any money off that.
The lesser known crop we have here, and the one with probably the best potential of becoming a future money-maker, is black raspberries. When Cyndie cans them as “blackcap” jam, they turn into liquid gold.
The wild bushes we have all over the place sprout a surprising amount of fruit in a short amount of time, often overnight. Cyndie has gotten in the habit of bringing a container along when she takes Delilah for walks, because new fruit seems to burst forth in places we didn’t even realize had the potential.
There is something special about the jam these berries produce. Their tantalizing aroma is almost as satisfying as the taste. If you already know and love that flavor, one whiff of the smell will trigger the irrepressible urge to consume.
We had no patience once the berries appeared, and Cyndie cooked up the first small batch she picked, to create a topping for waffles. A little local maple syrup over the top and we had our taste buds doing flips of joy over their good fortune.
This year, when conditions have been miserable for a lot of things, the raspberry plants seem to be doing quite well.
We’ve got a year’s supply of hay stacked in the hay shed, but I don’t think we’ll ever be able to stock enough of her blackcap jam. It’s just too irresistible.
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Never Dreamed
A few years ago, I had no clue about how much my life experience would be changing by the middle of the year 2014. Yesterday was the culmination of a possibility that bloomed after we bought our new property in the fall of 2012. I found myself out driving my tractor in our field, pulling a rake to create windrows for baling hay. What a kick. A very humbling kick that I never dreamed I would be experiencing.
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how to make this raking work the way I wanted. My instructions from George were pretty basic, and he rode with me as guide for about two passes, before heading home to trim some horses. He’s a farrier, you know. One big challenge with the rake he brought over is that you aren’t able to back up, and it keeps raking while you reach the end of the field and have to turn around before the fence.
Turning around was a trick, and the goal of creating straight, single rows repeatedly evaded me. It will take a few tries to figure out how to manage the shape of this field. Ed, the man who cut it for us last week, had never been on the field before and just picked a pattern which suited him. George and I started down one fence line and then he suggested I just continue that line, but it ended up putting me across many of the rows Ed had cut.
The result of my “student driving” exercise made for a pretty crazy sight, but George was kind and soldiered ahead with his baler to make it work, despite many areas where the hay had been tumbled into piles instead of rows.
The problem with the piles is that they would plug the intake and George would have to stop and climb down to pull grass out or kick the piles into place as prevention.
We both feel our system will improve as we figure out an optimum way to work the odd shape of this field. There is more to it, though, than just the irregular shape, because it is also not flat. Navigating up that hill becomes an increasing challenge as the hay wagon gets heavier and heavier with bales.
As always, needing the field to be dry enough to work is a primary factor. George got stuck several times, and I needed to push the back of the hay wagon with my tractor to get him moving again. The one that surprised me most was on higher ground, where his back wheels sunk into what must be a ground spring where water pushes up near the surface. It seems like an illogical location for a soft spot.
Now, after days of stacking purchased hay in our shed, we have two more wagons full of bales that need to be stacked. It is a LOT of work, but it is a labor of love.
Especially for the horses. They love having us stock piling all these bales where they can see and smell them.
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People Energy
This morning the sound of wind through the trees is providing a perfect ambiance for the idyllic experience we are enjoying of late. Once again, what takes it from a truly pleasant solitary adventure for us is the inclusion of other people. After 13 trips to visit our hay supplier over the last week and a half, I drove it one more time yesterday morning —this time in Cyndie’s convertible on the beautiful rolling country road— to take Cyndie to meet Tom and deliver payment for 520 small bales.
While we stood in his driveway visiting, a couple of guys arrived to pick up some bales of straw to mulch their garden and we had the opportunity to meet two more kindred spirits who live nearby. Tom took a moment to share a vivid story that had us all busting a gut with laughter, and the endorphins were flowing. Getting to know Tom and his son, Dan, has been a pleasure beyond the mere fact they are exactly what we dreamed of finding in terms of a local source of hay, baled in small squares. They are good people.
Later in the day, while I was trying to hustle to get the lawn grass mowed before it caught up to the growth in our hay-field, neighbor George Walker drove up the driveway, pulling a hay wagon in preparation to bale our field. After an informative visit, we walked out to test whether the cuttings were dry enough and I got a bit more education about the process. It is quite possible I may end up being the one to rake the field into windrows, pulling his rake behind our tractor today. He expects to be available to come do the baling shortly after that.
We parked the hay wagon in front of our hay shed and I drove my truck to his place to help him unload a second wagon, so that I could tow it back home as well. Things seem to be falling in line, in the nick of time. George and Rachel are two more people who we are blessed to have met and come to know.
While I was at their farm, I spotted a cat napping on the conveyor and wandered over to take a picture. As I got closer, I spotted kittens peeking out from within. It wasn’t until later, when I brought the image up on my computer, that I spotted one more cat laid out just above the first one that originally caught my eye.
Somehow, even with all the other activity that filled the day, when I got home, I squeezed in the completion of mowing all our grass, and in the final minutes before sunset, ran the reel mower through the labyrinth after I spotted Cyndie down there pulling weeds.
I think it was all the precious people energy that fueled my last burst of activity, allowing me to get the absolute most done by the end of the day.
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Relative Something 