Husband is an oldest son with younger siblings, and is a real caretaker. This extends to a sense of duty that he has toward our pets. He is currently feeling very guilty because he can’t give our dog the three walks a day that he has become accustomed to. Husband just doesn’t think that vigorous indoor play is sufficient. The problem is that there is so much treacherous ice coating the sidewalks that it isn’t safe for him to walk the dog right now. He cracked his wrist last Friday by falling on the ice while walking the dog.
Kyrill is very spoiled, in terms of the dog treats he gets and the attention that he is paid, by both me and Husband. Husband carefully reads the ingredients of the treats we buy, and we seem to make weekly trips to Runnings and the pet store in search of just the the right chews and toys. I don’t remember Husband spoiling our children like this, although he was always playing with them and keeping them busy.
Husband decided to brave the ice last night and try to walk the dog. He made it half way down to block and came back home as he was afraid of falling. I am afraid that there will be terrible ice for some time, as there is tons of snow, and as the weather warms during the day it is just going to melt and then refreeze into more ice.
I heard from a friend yesterday that the city street department has sixteen vacant positions that no one will take due to a reportedly toxic work environment. I don’t foresee the city stepping up to remove the snow and ice, so Husband is going to have to deal with his pet guilt for many weeks.
How does guilt factor in how you deal with your pets? How well does your municipal government function? What are the best and worst city governments you have dealt with?
It was nice to see the Sun on Monday for a while. Feels like that was a month ago. Then Thursday it was sunny for a while. Maybe some sun coming…along with the cold. Man, February, I’m telling ya. It was nice to see the Sun on Monday for a while. Feels like that was a month ago. Then Thursday it was sunny for a while. Maybe some sun coming…along with the cold. Man, February, I’m telling ya.
I signed a contract for concrete this summer. I’m excited about that and looking forward to it. It’s going to be really nice. I also plan to get new electrical service run to the shed instead of the rube Goldberg way it gets there now. (Thank you Dad) And then next year will be insulation and walls. But it’s gonna be nice.
I meant to start writing this well before I did. I went to get something, and I got distracted vacuuming the entry way and mudroom. That area is always dirty. Between the dogs’ wet feet and me and my boots bringing in bits of straw and chicken manure, plus dirt, and gravel (That’s why it’s the mudroom). Doesn’t help that our 15-year-old dog Allie is suffering incontinence and often pees down there. Good thing it’s tile and in floor heat. We’ve tried the doggy diapers; can anyone make them stay on?? We can’t. Put it on, turn around, it’s off. Maybe it’s the shape of the dog.
Anyway, after vacuuming the entryway, I realized I should vacuum the basement steps. I know I’ve vacuumed them once or twice before, but it’s been a while. Plugged it up with a big chunk of something and pulled out a LOT of dog hair. And that led me to vacuum the bathroom downstairs. I don’t ever recall vacuuming in there although someone must have at some point, and then it was full and I had to dump it out again after I was done. Then I had to mix up the next step of the Amish Friendship bread batter, and in a round-about way I finally got around to writing this.
Wednesday, I needed chicken layer ration and I drove to Stewartville to pick up it up. Stewartville is about 10 miles south of Rochester. Back when I was milking cows, it was almost a weekly thing to pick up bags of something for the cows. Protein supplements, soybean meal, trace minerals, salt, mineral barrels, something; and it was all in 50-pound bags and I loaded and unloaded many many tons of bags by hand over the years. So, when I called Elgin Elevator to order the layer ration and they told me they don’t carry bagged feed anymore, well, I was filled with dysphoria. When I was a kid, I’d go there with Dad to pick up feed. It probably had a few other names, and I recall picking up feed in Viola MN, and Zumbro Falls MN, but usually it was Elgin. There was a merger last year and I can only assume that’s why they’re not carrying bagged feed anymore. Or perhaps it’s so many people moving to bulk products instead of bags. And that’s how I ended up in Stewartville getting a ton of layer ration.
It’s so easy these days- they put it in the truck with a folk lift, and I use the tractor and forks to take it off the truck and put it in the shed. ‘Work smarter not harder’ they say. But it’s hard to build muscles that way, the weaklings.
I did get to drive some nice roads that I don’t often get on. Drove past Fugles Mill, over the Root River, and past the Root River Park. But getting around or through Rochester is such a hassle. (I know, try Minneapolis you say).
It was fun to meet Krista and Pippin and move some eggs. 36 dozen so far in January!
With the cold weather coming in I’ll have the wellhouse heater on for the next week and will be trying to collect eggs before they freeze and crack.
Doing chores the other day and I had a bit of a traffic jam.
Didn’t get a chance to watch any movies this week. Kelly and I are trying to watch an episode or two of ‘Orange is the New Black’ every night.
Music has been a random assortment of my phone playlist, Radio Heartland, the XM 1940’s station, or ModernBigBand on the Jazz channel. Although on the drive to Stewartville my playlist was various songs by the band YES. Roundabout, South Side of the Sky, Yours is No Disgrace, I’ve Seen All Good People. It was nice. Course I had the dogs with me. Humphrey just lays in the back seat. Bailey spent the first half of the trip with her nose in my ear, and the second half in the front seat staring at me.
One thing I forgot when using the snow blower last week; I forgot about how blown snow lands and packs harder than falling snow. Here’s me digging out one door with a garden trowel I had in the gator –
There was another door I was going to leave for Kelly, but I found a shovel and dug that one out and got it open. Yep; forgot that part.
Bundle up for a while now and be careful out there.
Guinevere is not a guard dog, despite her desire to be one. When I spend time downstairs, especially if I’m hanging out on the sofa, she feels the needs to watch out the windows and alert me to the existence of dangerous dogs walking by the house, mutant squirrels touching any of our trees or bushes and any other life-threatening happenings out front.
So it wasn’t a surprise when she reacted to some tree work going on across the street. It was fascinating; they had one of those big cherry pickers that had to anchored on both sides, two other big trucks on the street (which made the snow emergency a little tricky) and six guys that I could count, mostly up in the tree. For a bit I was thinking they were taking the tree down with all that equipment and all those workers but it wasn’t an elm and otherwise had appeared to be fine. After a couple of hours it was clear that they were just pruning and trimming. The project lost a little luster for me at that point.
But then I looked about a bit later and saw the strangest sight. They had dragged all the bigger branches away to the chipper and were cleaning up…. using rakes! Obviously rakes were the correct tool but you just don’t expect to see anyone raking during a snow emergency, the day after 10+ inches to snow. (I know the picture isn’t great… I wanted to make sure that you could see that it was actually a rake.)
How can you identify a dogwood tree? (All bad tree jokes and puns welcome!)
Our dog’s toy arsenal has been quite limited because of his post-surgery cone, and he has had to adapt to continue to have fun. Some toys just don’t work with a cone. I am happy to report the horrid cone comes off today. We and he are heartily sick of it.
One toy that has proven a continued delight for him is the large, orange tennis ball in the header photo. I placed a smaller red ball next to it so you could see the size difference. The orange ball is about 7 inches in diameter. He plays with it in several ways. He loves to peel the orange cover off it. That orange cover is glued on really tightly, and I am amazed at the strength of his jaws and teeth. He also likes to slam the ball on the floor while holding the fabric scrap in his mouth, then shaking it violently. He rolls the ball and chases it all around living room. We like it because it is too large to roll under the furniture. He barks and whines for us to retrieve smaller balls. He also likes to have us hold the ball while he tugs and tugs the fabric scrap. A ball lasts about a week.
What have been your pets’ favorite toys? What were your favorite toys as a child.What toys would you buy for a child these days?
Kyrill, our Cesky Terrier pup, was neutered on Tuesday. He was really good at leaving his incision alone at the Vet Office, but started licking it once we got him home, so I got a cone from the vet.
Kyrill hates it. It is made even more awkward by his shape. Kyrill has a long snout, so he needs a good sized cone to keep that long snout away from the incision. His legs are really short, though, so unless he holds his head up high, the cone drags on the floor. The cone also pushes away or obscures things he wants to pick up. This makes eating and drinking difficult.
We tried a soft cone that looks like a life preserver, but it wasn’t wide enough and allowed access to the incision.
I considered a dog recovery suit just for this purpose, but I couldn’t find one in town, and if I ordered one, it would take too long to get here. I also didn’t relish the idea of wrestling him into an infant onesie every time he needed to go outside. We can’t crate him easily with the cone on, so he hangs with us and looks miserable. We hope for quick healing so the cone can go away.
What are your experiences with the cone of shame? How do your animals handle being under the weather?
Our puppy went to the groomer today. The groomer said he did splendidly, and was easy to work with. She did a really good job with him, and studied the photos and literature I gave her on Cesky terriers. She did a really good job on his beard today. His fur is turning more and more platinum. He started out as completely black as a newborn.
He has been so happy and relaxed since we got him home. I guess he liked all the attention and cossetting and brushing. It was a spa day for him. I have never been to a spa. I have never had a massage or a pedicure or manicure. I don’t know how I would react having someone so close and personal.
Kyrill told me that he was so handsome now that I should sign him up on a dating site so he could get a girlfriend. I told him that wasn’t going to happen. He gets neutered next week.
Have you ever been to a spa?What do you think it would be like to go to one of those spas in Baden-Baden, Germany? How would you describe yourself on a dating site?
Got my corn harvested last weekend. Best yields I’ve ever had plus a decent price so that’s all nice. Inputs costs were exceptionally high, which cuts into the profits, but all in all, it ended up being a good year. Was it the weather? (It was a later spring than we like) Was it the lime applied last fall? Was it the co-op applying custom rates of fertilizer? Was it the fungicide applied to the soybeans? Was it some of everything??
They finished the corn harvest on Saturday, I finished chisel plowing on Sunday, and Tuesday, the co-op spread lime on the fields we didn’t do last year. I plow at about 6.5 MPH. I was doing about an acre every 15 minutes. Something I think about while I’m out there, it works up pretty rough. And that’s intentional because we want it to hold snow and prevent wind erosion. So driving across the field is really rough in the tractors. 50 years ago, when doing traditional plowing, it turned over all the residue, and if the conditions were good, left the field fairly smooth. And with the smaller tractors and smaller tires, that wasn’t a problem. It was probably in the mid 1980’s that we started doing conservation tillage, meaning we quit using the old traditional ‘moldboard’ plow and started using a chisel plow. One of the rules of the chisel plow is that you need to keep your speed up when plowing because the shovel is only 3” wide, and you want it to physically throw the dirt as it moves through the soil. The shovel is twisted to one side or the other, so my machine has 11 shovels; 5 throw dirt left, and 6 throw the dirt right. The whole thing is about 15 feet wide. Not burying all the residue also meant the machine has to be built to allow more trash to pass through it without plugging up in the shanks of the shovels.
The first chisel plow we got only had 7 shovels. And the tractor was not front wheel assist, meaning it had small tires on the front, and boy, it was really rough going across the worked ground. My tractor now, with MFWD (Mechanical Front Wheel Drive) and the larger front tires, makes it slightly less rough.
Course I had my tractor buddy Bailey with me the whole time.
If it got too bumpy she’d sit up and lean against my leg and I’d rub her head, then she’d lay back down again. It was tough going with some frost in the ground. Some places were frozen more than others; maybe different soil types caused that? There was a few minutes I was working in a snow squall. Weird.
My brother made the comment, “Thank goodness for heated cabs.” I agreed, and said I had thought about that too. I have spent time planting or doing fieldwork wearing a coat and gloves on open tractors. I also said I would have had to quit sooner because the lights weren’t so good back then.
With my bad foot, I generally get a new pair of shoes every fall because I’ve worn one of them sideways. After getting the soybean check is generally when I go shoe shopping. I only want steel or composite toe shoes. I move a lot of heavy stuff and I got enough problems without smashing a toe as well. And safety toe shoes are expensive to begin with. With the brace I wear on my right foot, I take out the insert and need a size 11 for that foot. I have a custom insert for the left foot, which is 9.5, but since I have size 11, I add my custom one on top of the original and I get along OK. Yet It seems silly to pay so much money for shoes and then I’m taking out some of the main thing. And they have to be built right to fit the brace in the first place. This year I’m trying a pair of Keen boots. $170 at Fleet Farm. Gosh. I’ve been wearing a pair of Sketchers that have been good. These are the shoes I wear every day. I’ve also got a pair of Red Wing work boots I wear when farming. I think I can get another year out of them.
There are a few places that deal in mismatched shoe sizes for amputee’s or other issues with the feet. One place says, “Find your ‘sole mate’.” I’ve never tried them, but I think it’s a wonderful idea.
ANYTHING MISMATCHED ABOUT YOU?
WHAT HAVE YOU GOT THAT YOU COULD EXCHANGE WITH SOMEONE?
In the “always something new under the sun” category – I came downstairs last week to find Nimue’s two ceramic bowls replaced with these two plates.
YA purchased them because apparently kitties can get “whisker fatigue” if they eat from regular bowls. I’m not even going to look up whisker fatigue; if I do find it legitimized online, it will just make me crazy.
This chess game has been ongoing for a couple of years – in the front yard of a house about 15 blocks up from my house. I’ve always been intrigued by it, mostly because I’m not a big “decorations in the yard” type of gal.
The other intrigue has to do with the fact that my natural instinct is to say “the cat is going to crush the dog”. My second instinct is to say “why is the bird watching so intently?” Personally I think watching games like chess and GO are akin to watching the proverbial paint dry.
Personally I like dice games because if you lose, you can always blame it on bad luck with the dice. Aggravation, Sorry, Parchesi, even Monopoly. I know the rules of chess and GO but haven’t played either for years. I’m also fond of trivia games.
Do you think cats are better chess players than dogs?
On one of the afternoons I spent in Nashville with my friend, Pat, we went in search of a bakery that was listed online as “one of the best bakeries in Nashville”. We used her car’s GPS to find it; the area was quite busy as it was Sunday but we managed to find a free parking spot and Pat maneuvered into it. It was a beautiful day so we were looking forward to walking a couple of blocks to the bakery.
It was a really interesting neighborhood and Pat told me it was called 12 South – about a half mile stretch on 12th Avenue South – filled with restaurants, clothing stores, vintage clothing stores, an outdoor market, jewelry store, donut bakery, art gallery and a cookie shop. Lots and lots of folks were walking about, shopping and sitting in outdoor areas of the restaurants. Lots of dogs too.
The only problem was that the median age of everybody in the neighborhood appeared to be 30-25. Tops. I’m not kidding; Pat and I were the oldest people walking around. It certainly didn’t feel unsafe (and I did enjoy petting a lot of dogs) but I did feel a little out of place. I commented to Pat that maybe we needed passports to be in 12 South.
Trail Baboon 