Posts Tagged ‘Wintervale’
General Goodness
It’s been a quiet day in Lake Wo-Wintervale-begon. The weather was mild all weekend, the trail cam continues to capture rabbits and squirrels, and progress on my wood sculpting art project has advanced, but not enough to stand out in pictures. Trust me. I considered showing them here today, but the results were too emphatically underwhelming.
The horses have been emanating incredibly peaceful vibes, Delilah is mostly behaving, and Pequenita endlessly seeks hands-on attention from me. Cyndie has been extraordinarily productive with creative abundance from her kitchen. I stand around wondering how to at least be ‘above average,’ never sure how to achieve the ‘good looking’ descriptor that Mr. Keillor tosses around.
We’re at one of those points where, in my past life, I would respond with a multitude of reasons for a gloomy outlook. It is a precious thing to have forged a path above and beyond that inclination, and to be able to relax and absorb the absence of dilemma today; to actually feel joyous, in fact.
Sure, the Check Engine Light still comes on in my car after every time the shop resets it, but I’m not stressin’ that. It is what it is. Things are mighty fine in general, and being able to appreciate that goodness, without struggling so to do, is icing on a cake that I get to have, and eat, too!
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Peripheral Views
During one of our walks around the outside of the hay-field fence over the weekend, I paused Delilah so I could take some pictures. I like how the two I have selected to post here, have noticeably different coloring, even though they are taken from the same vantage point. I zoomed in to focus on the horses and our buildings for the first one, and then took in a wider view with a sliver of blue sky for a highlight across the middle.
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I like how the slope of hill influences the wider view, and the clouded sky ends up looking almost like a reflection.
The shot with the horses is one of my favorite perspectives of our place, because you can see the house (barely) through the trees. It gives a reference for the spacing and location of all our buildings, which is not easy to achieve.
Happy February! Before you know it, there will be groundhogs all over the place, trying to decide whether they can see their shadow, or not.
I’m sure that winter is patiently awaiting their verdict, so it will know how it should proceed for the next couple months. I’m not concerned. We have enough hay for whatever amount of winter remains this year.
I think.
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Breakfast Served
I’m posting a little later than usual for a weekday, but it’s a weekend day for me, since I work a 4-day week at the day-job, so that’s my excuse. The actual truth is that I am busier than usual tending to tasks because my ranch partner is on vacation. Cyndie is lounging by the pool at her parent’s home in Florida for a couple of weeks.
I know! She deserves it, make no mistake.
She threatened to pay me back by taking care of our place and George’s for a few days so we could go up to Hayward, WI and do some skiing. That’s nice, but sounds like a lot more work than lounging by a pool, to me.
I am back in the old routine of waking up alone and giving all the animals the morning attention they require. The first task is cleaning up after the horses in the area of the barn overhang. Then I serve up their breakfast cereal in a dance that has become very routine for them when I am doing it. I love how apparent it is that they understand what I will do, and they wait patiently, for the most part, for me to mosey through the steps.
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You may notice in the images, we are being treated this morning to a picturesque “snow-globe” snowfall that is adding a magical feeling to this winter morning. It doesn’t hurt that the temperature has warmed considerably, bringing more than a magical feeling, it is a very real sensation of being much more comfortable for a winter day.
On the way to the barn, Delilah has already taken care of her first order of business, and then she busies herself in the barn by searching for mice or barking annoyingly at the horses or some distant other dog that is inevitably baying for attention. Delilah is more than happy to oblige the neighbor dogs, regardless the anxiety it creates in me and the horses.
If she would be quiet, that morning time can be incredibly serene. When she’s not, her harsh hollering is exceptionally grating. It usually earns her a short leash in the middle of the barn, after which, I close the doors on her. There. Take that, Ms. Barksalot.
When the hay boxes are topped off and the immediate vicinity is poo-free, Delilah gets what she has been waiting for. I take her for a walk. This morning’s was a shortened version, because when we reached the road, there were empty garbage and recycle bins ready to be returned to the garage.
Delilah is usually more than happy to have a short a.m. walk, because returning to the house means she will be presented with her morning meal.
After all that, the master of the house finally is served. Well, not really served. I have to get it myself. Time for my breakfast!
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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.
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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.
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Truly Best
Our Christmas celebrations this year have provided a wonderful addition to years of fabulous Christmases with Cyndie’s family. Now that we live in Wisconsin, the routine for us has settled into a pattern of driving back and forth to Edina on Christmas eve, and then two more times on Christmas day. This allows us to participate in spectacular meals, and all that comes with them, as well as tend to the care of Delilah and our horses back home.
I’m used to driving that route, so it doesn’t bother me. The trouble comes in accounting for that extra hour that always separates us from our intended destination. It becomes a struggle to get out of the house on time to arrive at the celebration by the appointed hour.
Then we need to watch the clock while enjoying the time of our lives so that we don’t end up forcing our dog to wait too long without us at home. Sure wish we could just ask Scotty to beam us home. We always want to stay longer at the social gathering, but without it resulting in such a late return to our home an hour away.
I enjoyed two particular “bests” yesterday that deserve specific mention. Cyndie’s mother, Marie, is a master hostess who prepares world-class meals for large numbers of guests. The traditional family dinner of beef tenderloin on Christmas day is one of my favorites. It is magical, because no matter what variations may occur every year, it is always the best meal I have ever had.
This year, it was even better than that.
Honestly, I struggle to justify enjoying such gastronomical pleasure. The dessert which followed the best-dinner-ever included a cranberry cake with a caramel sauce topping that always tastes so amazing, it should be recognized as a dangerous weapon and require a license to prepare.
I received some very nice gifts from very generous people this Christmas, but there is one that immediately claimed my heart as the best possible thing I opened. We draw names for a gift exchange in Cyndie’s family, and this year, my fellow in-law, Sara, wife of Cyndie’s brother, Ben, picked my name out of the hat.
She nailed the precise art of matching a gift to the recipient, and steeped it in her own joy while creating it. Sara made a wood-burned image of our Wintervale logo on a beautiful pine board. I find it absolutely beautiful to look at. It smells good, too!
It is the best gift.
I just want to look at it again and again. It is one of a kind, made by Sara’s hands, and intended specifically for me. What a precious thing.
I had a very merry Christmas.
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Many Thanks
On this eve of our Thanksgiving holiday, I wish to extend my heartfelt thanks to you, my readers, for venturing into my world and joining in my adventures and explorations of Somethings occasionally Relative. You may have arrived to view my stories of a Himalayan trek, our visit to Portugal, my annual bike trips, pictures, poetry, Words on Images, or tales of a transition from the suburbs to our Wintervale Ranch paradise. You may be family, friends, coworkers, fellow WordPress bloggers, poets, photographers, wordsmiths, or happenstance searching link-clickers.
You are my audience, and I thank you for your participation, silent or otherwise.
I hope that regular followers have grown familiar with the usual cast of characters that populate the content of late. A certain dog seems to get the most mention. Long ago I began a move toward dropping constant use of orienting descriptions for people and animals that show up in my tales of adventure and woe, hoping that they were becoming established and familiar to readers over time.
We are many chapters into a book that you are reading as it is being written. What will happen next? I can’t make it up. The drama plays out with little concern about how I might be able to narrate it.
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I purchased a replacement GFCI breaker for power to the waterer in the paddock. It failed, too. My “spidey” sense tells me there is leakage current, after all. Removing the access panel on the waterer revealed an incredible amount of moisture present. No wonder. I saw a statistic that we are currently running in 7th place for wettest November on record.
In the previous two years of having that waterer during the winter, we’ve never faced needing to have the heater on when it was so wet.
I’m temporarily bypassing the GFI safety feature to keep the ice off the water source for our horses. Cyndie had a heck of a time breaking off the ice for them yesterday morning, after I tried a night with no power at all.
It appears the solar-powered battery supplying electricity to our arena fence is successfully keeping the horses from wreaking havoc on the barrier.
I found a picture I had taken with the intent of showing how wet the ground was, and discovered it caught Legacy in the distance, mouthing the fence. Busted!
Don’t forget, you can click on the smaller images to bring up the full-size view for closer inspection.
Our house is already filled with the aroma of traditional holiday feasting fare. Cyndie has been busy cooking and cleaning in preparation of hosting Thanksgiving dinner here tomorrow. Family that are planning to come should consider bringing mud-boots.
The weather shows signs of possible precipitation, in addition to the water already saturating our grounds. I’m hoping we don’t all end up stuck indoors watching parades and football games, and eating way more than we should as a result of more rain. It would be a shame to miss out on walks in our woods, exercising Delilah to tire her out, walking the labyrinth, and visiting the horses.
I’m guessing we won’t let a little rain stop us from getting out for a little bit.
Thank you for reading!
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Capturing Images
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Three recent views from Wintervale that reflect what I get to gaze upon when wandering around our place.
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An Addendum
Last Sunday was a beautiful warm sunny day, during which we were out and about, tending to a variety of chores. It was also the day when we received the second of our two visiting stray dogs of the weekend.
The dog was clearly interested in everything I did, spending most of the time that he was here, in close proximity to wherever I was working. My last project, prior to heading in to watch the end of the Vikings NFL game, involved the Grizzly ATV in front of the shop garage.
I remounted the plate which supports the back of the snowplow frame beneath the under carriage. I also spent time bolting the blade and associated parts to the plow frame, which had been removed for welding over the summer.
I had the first half of the football game on the radio, and both Delilah —on a leash— and the wayward visitor, milled close by as I puttered.
As Cyndie passed by after feeding the horses, she picked up Delilah and headed into the house, leaving me to finish while the stray longingly eyed me for attention. When I was finally ready to close up, I spotted the dog laying in leaves nearby. I closed the big garage door and then turned out lights and shut the shop door.
I recall purposely deciding to not head directly toward the house, thinking the stray dog would follow me to the door and make me feel bad about going inside without him. I chose instead, to head toward the barn first, and circled around toward the labyrinth, so I could get one last look at the new mowing I had done earlier in the day, widening the path along the back pasture fence line.
In doing so, I saw no sign of the black dog. Since I had wanted to lose him in the first place, I was okay with that, and climbed the hill up to the house, alone.
On Monday morning, I left for work in the early darkness and hoped to hear from Cyndie if the dog was still hanging around when she and Delilah got up. No news came. With no dog around, she had no reason to call the veterinarian to find out who owned it. We thought that was the end of it…
Until yesterday.
Just after lunch, I got a call from Cyndie with a big surprise. When she stepped out of the barn in the middle of the day after cleaning out the stalls, she heard a wailing sound and followed it up to the shop garage. She discovered that the stray had somehow made his way inside when I closed up on Sunday.
He had been locked in there for almost 2 days! I hadn’t made a visit to the shop on Monday after I got home from work and he didn’t make a sound any of the multiple times Cyndie and Delilah walked past, until she finally heard him yesterday afternoon.
It breaks my heart to know the poor guy was stuck in there that whole time. Cyndie gave him water and some food and he headed off on his own right away. Cyndie followed up with the vet and contacted the owner, who reported the dog had made his way home, but she was rather surprised he wasn’t soaking wet from all the rain that had fallen.
I’ll take consolation in that. At least he was warm and dry during his unintended 2-day imprisonment.
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A Picture
A portrait today, of our Hunter, on his own in the sun.
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Relative Something 