Never thought retirement would be like this
- Thread starter NancyNGA
- Start date
It's been 7.5 weeks since replacing the pcv valve in the truck and it hasn't used *any* oil. Before it was losing about a half quart a month. Still idling at only 650 but no stalling. Fingers crossed.
Saw a pair of medium-sized adult ducks land in the pond yesterday. Possibly migrated from up north. First ones I've seen out there in a long time. Tried to scare them off, but they were on the other side of the pond and it didn't phase them. Ten minutes later I could only spot one. Hope they both moved on, or at least to a safer pond.
Put out straw for the goats. Supposed to get down to 30F tonight. First frost maybe. Then back up to lows in the 50's.
(TMI?) Swept the barn. Goat doo-doo is like deer, only larger---round balls about 1/2 inch across. Best of all it doesn't smell. The floor in part of the barn is concrete. On concrete it rolls around like marbles. To sweep it into a pile without overshooting you have to take into account the humidity of the air, slope of the floor, and wind speed, as well as your sweep stroke. It takes a lot of practice. I liken it to putting in golf.
If I had to have an outdoor pet, I'd choose a Saanen goat. They don't make unnecessary noises, and when they make a noise it is so quiet, not irritating. A goat doesn't smell even when wet (only males in rut smell), and each one has a very unique personality, even more than cats.
Vet speak I've had to interpret:
"Deer worm would be the first on my rule-out list."
"He may be 10 years old, but his teeth don't know it."
Saw a pair of medium-sized adult ducks land in the pond yesterday. Possibly migrated from up north. First ones I've seen out there in a long time. Tried to scare them off, but they were on the other side of the pond and it didn't phase them. Ten minutes later I could only spot one. Hope they both moved on, or at least to a safer pond.
Put out straw for the goats. Supposed to get down to 30F tonight. First frost maybe. Then back up to lows in the 50's.
(TMI?) Swept the barn. Goat doo-doo is like deer, only larger---round balls about 1/2 inch across. Best of all it doesn't smell. The floor in part of the barn is concrete. On concrete it rolls around like marbles. To sweep it into a pile without overshooting you have to take into account the humidity of the air, slope of the floor, and wind speed, as well as your sweep stroke. It takes a lot of practice. I liken it to putting in golf.
If I had to have an outdoor pet, I'd choose a Saanen goat. They don't make unnecessary noises, and when they make a noise it is so quiet, not irritating. A goat doesn't smell even when wet (only males in rut smell), and each one has a very unique personality, even more than cats.
Vet speak I've had to interpret:
"Deer worm would be the first on my rule-out list."
"He may be 10 years old, but his teeth don't know it."
Meanderer
Supreme Member
[h=3]Until the Cows – and Goats and Horses and Dogs – Come Home[/h]http://www.gstaadlife.com/2013/08/l...-and-goats-and-horses-and-dogs-come-home.html
Wow, it is kind of nice in the morning at daylight! But I like the night time, too. Having it all leaves no time to sleep.
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I don't think making decisions is as hard for other people as it is for me. Probably a character flaw.
After my parents moved here from Florida and then my father died, I became the sole decision maker about things out at the farm. My mother refused to even voice an opinion one way or the other. I sometimes envied her because she never seemed to have a care in the world. So any time some little thing went wrong my first reaction was to see it as a major crisis. Especially things that required spur-of-the-moment decisions and muscle power.
One day we were riding around on the far side of the lake doing something (looks like repairing fence). She somehow got the Ezgo stuck, headed downhill toward the lake when she tried to turn it around in a tight spot. We couldn't back it out, and everything we tried seemed to make it slip a little farther down the bank. Major crisis! We did have the camera with us that day.
So I headed toward the house walking. It would be nearly a mile around the lake and through the woods, not easy walking. Decided to bring back at least a chain or heavy rope, a winch, and a shovel---tough to carry it all back, but it could be done eventually. On the way I remembered the boat. When I got to the garage I loaded all the stuff in the truck, drove to the boat dock, loaded the boat and took off rowing across the lake. Probably the *real* miracle of the day was that I could find everything---including oars, life preserver, key to unlock the boat.
Fortunately there was a large tree right behind the cart. We inched it back with the rope and winch and eventually got it out. We even did high fives afterward. She rowed the boat back, I drove the cart around to the dock, and we took off to the house---she driving the cart and me, the truck. Problem solved. Piece of cake.
This is my mother rowing back. She was always a good sport and enthusiastic about doing anything outdoors.
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I don't think making decisions is as hard for other people as it is for me. Probably a character flaw.
After my parents moved here from Florida and then my father died, I became the sole decision maker about things out at the farm. My mother refused to even voice an opinion one way or the other. I sometimes envied her because she never seemed to have a care in the world. So any time some little thing went wrong my first reaction was to see it as a major crisis. Especially things that required spur-of-the-moment decisions and muscle power.
One day we were riding around on the far side of the lake doing something (looks like repairing fence
). She somehow got the Ezgo stuck, headed downhill toward the lake when she tried to turn it around in a tight spot. We couldn't back it out, and everything we tried seemed to make it slip a little farther down the bank. Major crisis! We did have the camera with us that day.
So I headed toward the house walking. It would be nearly a mile around the lake and through the woods, not easy walking. Decided to bring back at least a chain or heavy rope, a winch, and a shovel---tough to carry it all back, but it could be done eventually. On the way I remembered the boat.
When I got to the garage I loaded all the stuff in the truck, drove to the boat dock, loaded the boat and took off rowing across the lake. Probably the *real* miracle of the day was that I could find everything---including oars, life preserver, key to unlock the boat. Fortunately there was a large tree right behind the cart. We inched it back with the rope and winch and eventually got it out. We even did high fives afterward.
She rowed the boat back, I drove the cart around to the dock, and we took off to the house---she driving the cart and me, the truck. Problem solved. Piece of cake. This is my mother rowing back. She was always a good sport and enthusiastic about doing anything outdoors.
Pappy
Living the Dream
I love your pictures, Nancy. Reminds me of my old homestead I grew up on. We couldn't run to town for every little thing that happened so we had to make do with what we had.
Bailing wire was the main ingredient. Always had a row on hand.
Bailing wire was the main ingredient. Always had a row on hand.
Glad you like pictures, Pappy. I'm afraid I put in too many sometimes.
Baling wire is now nylon, or some such thing. It is still very strong. We have piles of it around and still have used it for so many things I can't begin to remember. Tried to weave an outdoor floor mat out of it once, but you can't tie knots in it well enough for them to stay put.
Baling wire is now nylon, or some such thing. It is still very strong. We have piles of it around and still have used it for so many things I can't begin to remember. Tried to weave an outdoor floor mat out of it once, but you can't tie knots in it well enough for them to stay put.
My mother would be horrified if she understood that potentially the whole world could see her picture in those work clothes. But that's the risk you run when you have children.
Something about the oarlocks being off a little.
She always rowed the boat backwards. Actually it was easier that way for me, too, but I wouldn't admit it.It was great to see your Mom in the boat!
Something about the oarlocks being off a little.
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OK, so here's one last picture. The home stretch of another jam we got into. The Ezgo just stopped running *way* back on the back property line. Another long hike back to get the tractor this time and the same rope. Then towing the cart back home. Gotta love that rope.
Meanderer, we have a chain too. It is huge, and long, must weigh about 30 pounds. You can't push it either. I tried.
Out to the farm today. The goats were happy and dancing. I think because of the sunshine and no rain. High of 69 deg F. There was a hard freeze in low spots this week. Didn't realize how far down the water was until the weeds on the edge froze. I measured 3'6" on the dock posts. It is completely dry *under* the dock now. The turtles have definitely slowed down activity for the year. Haven't seen one in 2 weeks.
Had good intentions to begin cutting the alder bushes growing up on the edge while you can walk below them.
Only got about 30 feet from the dock and found the air filter for the trimming saw laying on the ground, but couldn't find the cover. Good news is I kept my old broken saw which is identical. The parts should transfer. Probably only about 1000 feet left to cut. Will begin again next time. Eventually I may finish, who knows. Anyway good exercise. I need it. Too much time spent indoors lately due to rain.
So instead I took off to check the fence. Charge was 2500 v. Found only one fault. Electric wire badly twisted around the top wire of the fence. Happens when deer jump over and drag their back feet. Brought charge up to 7200v. This is something I'll never understand. But I'll take it.
Domestic critters I met along the way today:
South side. Why the voltage needs to be up on the fence. They are very quiet and cause no trouble, but tend to lean on fence. I like them.
North side. Glad there are two fences separating these two. They are very rambunctious. They have been there for 5 years and they still bark at me every time I go by. The goats are afraid to go to that side of the property. I would be too if I were a goat.
Out to the farm today. The goats were happy and dancing. I think because of the sunshine and no rain. High of 69 deg F. There was a hard freeze in low spots this week. Didn't realize how far down the water was until the weeds on the edge froze. I measured 3'6" on the dock posts. It is completely dry *under* the dock now. The turtles have definitely slowed down activity for the year. Haven't seen one in 2 weeks.
Had good intentions to begin cutting the alder bushes growing up on the edge while you can walk below them.
Only got about 30 feet from the dock and found the air filter for the trimming saw laying on the ground, but couldn't find the cover. Good news is I kept my old broken saw which is identical. The parts should transfer. Probably only about 1000 feet left to cut.
Will begin again next time. Eventually I may finish, who knows. Anyway good exercise. I need it. Too much time spent indoors lately due to rain.So instead I took off to check the fence. Charge was 2500 v. Found only one fault. Electric wire badly twisted around the top wire of the fence. Happens when deer jump over and drag their back feet. Brought charge up to 7200v. This is something I'll never understand.
But I'll take it.Domestic critters I met along the way today:
South side. Why the voltage needs to be up on the fence. They are very quiet and cause no trouble, but tend to lean on fence. I like them.
North side. Glad there are two fences separating these two. They are very rambunctious. They have been there for 5 years and they still bark at me every time I go by. The goats are afraid to go to that side of the property. I would be too if I were a goat.
Meanderer
Supreme Member
Nancy, your fence Saga, reminds me of a poem.
[h=3]Robert Frost’s poem, “Mending Wall,” reiterates the confusion that the proverb suggests. In the poem, two neighbors walk the length of their dividing wall each spring to mend whatever has fallen off. The speaker does not understand the purpose of the fence; however, his neighbor merely repeats the phrase, “good fences make good neighbors.” The speaker has no alternative but to continue this ritual with his neighbor each year despite his own belief that mending the wall is a waste of time.[/h]Mending Wall by Robert Frost
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
[h=3]Robert Frost’s poem, “Mending Wall,” reiterates the confusion that the proverb suggests. In the poem, two neighbors walk the length of their dividing wall each spring to mend whatever has fallen off. The speaker does not understand the purpose of the fence; however, his neighbor merely repeats the phrase, “good fences make good neighbors.” The speaker has no alternative but to continue this ritual with his neighbor each year despite his own belief that mending the wall is a waste of time.[/h]Mending Wall by Robert Frost
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."
Thank you Meanderer.
After reading this poem the required (for me), maybe, 7 times, then reading just enough of Frost's biography, and finally, listening to him recite it himself, here, I've decided I like it. But I would much prefer to have talked to Robert Frost personally. I get the feeling he is toying with us. I don't like being toyed with.
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Now quit making me think so much. I don't have time to think. Just noticed in that picture, with the horses, that the cross brace of the corner post section has fallen off. I wish the narrator of that poem were that neighbor. We would get along just fine.
After reading this poem the required (for me), maybe, 7 times, then reading just enough of Frost's biography, and finally, listening to him recite it himself, here, I've decided I like it. But I would much prefer to have talked to Robert Frost personally. I get the feeling he is toying with us. I don't like being toyed with.
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Now quit making me think so much.
I don't have time to think. Just noticed in that picture, with the horses, that the cross brace of the corner post section has fallen off. I wish the narrator of that poem were that neighbor. We would get along just fine.
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Shalimar
SF VIP
- Location
- Vancouver Island Canada
Poetry is a complex medium, even for a poet.
Meanderer
Supreme Member
After a long horizontal life pause this evening, I'm up in the wee hours. Will pay for it tomorrow (I mean, today).
Meanderer, the picture I posted was a snapshot from a video about the Civil War, and the stone wall appeared for only a few seconds. It was just odd that a wall appeared out of the blue in such a timely fashion. The whole video would be more appropriate in a Civil War thread.
( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mVjD2DaB4bY )
Yes, Shalimar, I can see it is complicated. You are talking to a poetically challenged person here, too, but it is intriguing to me. I may practice on a more complicated one now.
Added at least 100 more feet to the brush clearing today. It was beautiful weather, sunshine, high 58, no wind, just right for working. One more day and I could actually finish one leg of the job. Maybe I'll do that Thanksgiving day if the weather is good. Cutting the brush is less than half the job. The harder part is stacking the limbs up out of the way. More pictures {sigh}
I know I seem overly obsessed about the water level in the pond, but it just amazes me.
Dock today:
Normal:
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mg:Add cottage cheese to the list of things I can't eat before going to bed. I had the craziest, vivid, nightmare this morning.
I was trying to give a speech and the audience was a mixture of co-workers at my old job, relatives, and some members of Senior Forums without faces. I kept getting the pages of my notes mixed up. The SF people kept trying to help me out, my old co-workers wandered off to have donuts, and the relatives kept interrupting to tell me I should go check on my cousin. There was also a large dog, but I don't remember how he fit in to the picture.
And they say dreams don't mean anything. :eewwk:
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