The Mighty Brule. Taken during our walk on Saturday

October 21, 2012

28 degrees/clear

Pentoga Road

There are days when it might be better to stay in bed. I hope this isn’t one of them.

I awakened shortly after 4 AM, full of life and ready to put both feet on the floor, but managed to remain between the sheets until 5.

I tried to exit as gracefully as possible. Sargie was snuggled next to me and I could tell by her breathing that she was dropping into a deeper sleep.

First one foot… then the other touched the floor. I rose and managed to bang my head on the sloped ceiling. Who in the devil would build a story-and-a-half house and not install a dormer? I’d like to know the history of our second floor. The house was built almost a hundred years ago. I’m certain it originated as an attic and the two bedrooms and bath upstairs were an afterthought.

Rubbing my head, I realized too late that a sheet had wrapped around one leg. I stumbled, hit the nightstand, then stubbed a toe on a leg of the bed.

Thankfully, Saturday ended much better than Sunday began. After checking my empty traps, I fiddled around in the barn until Sargie was ready to go for a walk. We talked and hiked over three miles to the mighty Brule and back, and enjoyed the sunny fall day.

Sargie wanted to make chili. Garden tomatoes, hamburger, beans, herbs and spices… and no doubt other ingredients comprising of near-wizardry combinations were added to the giant pot atop the stove. The house soon smelled like it belonged to Betty Crocker and I delighted in thinking of the meal to come.

While Sargie was doing her kitchen magic, I fixed No Trespassing signs around the perimeter of our property. Since we’re surrounded by public hunting land, I’m fearful someone will innocently come in from the back or side and shoot too close to the house and yard.

I enjoyed the mild afternoon temperatures as I read a compass that pointed to the boundaries and enabled me to fasten a sign every few hundred feet. There’s one small area I’ve yet to post. Otherwise, that job is finished.

Sargie was multitasking and hanging out white clothes on the line when I got back. Entering the house, I noticed she had made peanut butter cookies that included coconut, chocolate, and peanut butter chips. Those, along with the simmering chili redoubled my anticipation for Sunday evening’s meal.

A trip to town and a late afternoon ride? Sure why not.

We stopped by Insurance Liquidators for a quick walk-through. There didn’t appear to be any new treasures we couldn’t live without. It was time for our weekly drive.

Old Beechwood Road by way of Dobson Road provided Sunday afternoon’s sightseeing adventure. I assume Dobson Road, west of Iron River, was named after Sheri since her maiden name is the same. We enjoyed seeing, literally, herds of deer around every corner and the variety of country homes, water, and woods. It was a good drive.

We arrived back to a home that smelled like Heaven… a hint of chili with a touch of peanut butter cookie on the side. Sargie filled a huge bowl and handed it to me. I prefer my chili with raw onion and grated cheese sprinkled on top and hurried to slather butter and peanut butter onto slices of homemade bread. The feast was about to begin.

And eat we did. There are few foods in the world that signal the beginning of a new season like chili. The day had turned cool, the air smelled fresh, a fire was crackling in the stove. All was right in our world and our tummies smiled in agreement.

While enjoying supper, I thought of Dad. He loved chili and Mom made plenty during the fall and winter months. He had a particular fondness for Steak n’ Shake chili and back in the old days, an option was to “float the grease.”

When dining at his favorite fast food restaurant, Dad delighted in telling the waitress to include a ladle of pure grease on top of the thick soup. That was fifty years ago when grease was still good for you. Dad loved his chili.

Saturday wound down by watching television, reading, and enjoying desert. As long as the calories were piling on, we decided it would be foolish to deny ourselves heaping bowls of Moose Tracks ice cream accompanied by peanut butter cookies. I got doubly sinful and squirted chocolate sauce over everything. Perfect.

Sargie has to work from noon to five today. I’ll fiddle around in the barn and naturally, watch the Packers play St. Louis. Hopefully, they’ll put together a winning streak of two games; the first this year. There's wood to cut, popples to chip, and mink and ermine boxes to make. A man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…