Posts about Plymouth, Wisconsin
One of the dogs up at Getaway Farms died today.
Homer was one of those good old mixed breed 14 year old dogs that every farm needs.
This Summer Cyndi decided was going to be the “Summer of Homie”. She didn’t put any restrictions on him and let him do his thing. Luckily he went before the cold set in and the ground froze solid. It sounds morbid, but you have to think about these kinds of things when you are in zone 4.
RIP Homer.
Pretty soon the website for Rural Pursuits will be up and running, but in the meantime, I am helping my friend’s sister around her place.
Getaway farms is a great place that Greg’s sister runs by herself. Try managing 15 acres, 7 horses, a huge barn and a track and see how far behind you get.
One of the jobs we tackled yesterday was getting old railroad ties up and out of the ground in a corner of the yard that used to be garden and grading it back into lawn.
There were 15 of these damn things!
Here is the thing: When you tell me there is work to be done, I turn into a Real German®. Not the happy lederhosen wearing beer drinking German that you see at the Bierstube, but a hardcore task master that stays on task and WILL complete the job.
We were laughing together as we dug out chinese elms and maple trees. There was a little whining halfway through, but we powered through. At one point, she was ready to give up and go eat. I said: “Let’s finish this and then we can eat. Let’s power through. We get no comfort until the work is DONE!” To which she replied: “OK! OK! I know what happens to us Poles when we get under the thumb of a German!”
So the day went well – we worked in really humid windless conditions, changing clothes 2x because we couldn’t stay cool or dry, but we. got. it. done.
Needless to say, I don’t normally look like this after a day of work:
Done.
As I was riding today, I remembered part of an old WWII era joke I heard one of the old men at the VFW tell.
I always understood the German for horse as Pferd. I was doing something online and came across Gaul as an alternative.
And all of the sudden the half-remembered punchline of this forgotten joke made sense. It had to do with riding a Gaul (Frenchie) as if she were a Gaul (horse).
And there you have it. A joke I don’t really remember that I just figured out after a 20 year comic pause.
I rode again today for the first time in a while…
Here we go!
My horse was Kayla, a chestnut Quarter Horse with (what seemed like) an even disposition. Even until we got out on the track, that is. She was pulling me this way and that and then started cantering to the barn.
View to the North as I got dragged along the track.
We eventually came to an understanding, but not before a couple of scares. Once we began to understand each other, we really had a nice time.
Riding in the practice field.
Like Cyndi was saying: Horses just want a leader. The herd mentality is strong and they need that direction. If they don’t get it, they assume it for themselves.
Out of the Gate!
So we rode for a while in the heat and it was really nice.
A lot of the time I will talk to myself in a kind of broken piginy German. In this case, I kept repeating “Reite Das Pferd! Nichts Das Pferd Wird Von Mir Geritten!” A real German would laugh at that, I think… They would rather see something like: “Gerittente Pferd” or something, but whatever. I use the word Tagleuchter too, so what do you want?
I know what you want. You want more pictures from Getaway Farms.
Well, here you go:
These people can DRINK.
For real. I grew up with rabid teetotalers on one side and just as rabid alcoholics on the other* and have NEVER seen this much booze consumed.
So prep your liver before you come, cause they start early and run late.
*Why yes, extended family gatherings were very interesting, thank you.
