January 31, 2013 – Thursday

4 degrees/clear/breezy

Pentoga Road

Once again, the weatherman lied. He said we might expect a mere inch of snow yesterday with another to fall last night. The inch turned into two, and that to four, and eventually, those developed into six to eight. I’ll go out on a limb and forecast that the first time the winds blows, there’ll be some fairly descent-sized drifts. I should be a weatherman when I grow up.

The last day of January... It’s crazy how fast this past year has gone. A year ago now, I had just decided to retire. Everything since is a blur. It seemed after the decision was made, the remaining time was spent corresponding with the Teachers Retirement System, trying to sell the boat, or making plans for a life in the Upper Peninsula. I’ve never regretted my decision. So far/so good.

I rode with Sargie four miles towards Iron Mountain on Wednesday morning in the snow. Leaving me by a gravel pit to walk back home, I stood in ankle-deep snow as she drove away. Visibility was lousy.

Twenty minutes later, I sensed, more than heard, a car pull alongside me. It was Sargie heading back home. She’d driven several miles further towards Iron Mountain when visibility was reduced to zero. Between the heavy snowfall and the wind, she decided to error on the side of good sense and return home. As it turned out, her decision was very wise. It continued snowing, often heavy, for the rest of the day.

Though Sargie offered me a ride, I declined. I wanted to walk. Almost every truck or car that went by stopped and asked if I needed a ride. Typical Yooper folks; help out a fellow human in the time of perceived need. It’s one of the many reasons I live here.

When I told each I was out walking “on this beautiful day” for my health, all laughed, wished me good luck, and drove on. One man asked two or three times if I was sure I didn’t need a ride. Bless his heart. He already has his ticket to Heaven.

Sargie and I spent a nice, quiet, day on Pentoga Road. Few vehicles, if any, drove past. For sure, we didn’t have to worry about being plowed out by the county. It took them three days to clean the road after several inches of snow fell last week. When it comes to an after-storm cleanup, I think Pentoga Road is an afterthought. There’s at least one positive that I can think of; an unplowed road keeps the tourists away and I didn't see one drive by yesterday!

I took time to fashion a crude flagpole bracket in the shop to replace the one the falling snow (from the roof) had broken on Tuesday. With the temperatures in the teens and quickly dropping, I didn’t worry about making it intricate, just purely useful. I’ll paint it white today and mount it tomorrow so Old Glory can once again wave proudly on Pentoga Road. A much nicer looking one will be made once the temperatures warm this Spring.

I fried fish, fries, and shrimp last night for supper. Sargie made salads and we ate like the piggies we know how to be. We later watched the newest Mission Impossible movie. It was a wonderful, lazy, day.

Sargie has to work today and close the Vision Center tonight. It’ll be a long day for her. I’ve got a test to post online for one of my classes and no doubt, there’ll be more papers and assignments to read and grade. I know there’s a load or two of laundry to be done, and of course, snow that needs to be removed from the drive and deck… and then there’s that darn mandatory nap, the one written about in the Grandpa Handbook. It’s tough, but as you well know, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

The roads were covered with glare ice Tuesday morning

January 30, 2013 – Wednesday

23 degrees/overcast/breezy

Pentoga Road

It appears as if we’re emerging from icy, wet, conditions into those that promise to be frigid, snowy, and windy. So much for our one-day preview of spring.

I awakened Tuesday morning to the sound of rain pounding on the roof. Neighbor Mike called around sunrise begging off going ice fishing. I told him I thought he was wise and I felt the same. What could be more miserable than sitting out on the ice, slush up to one’s ankles, getting soaked by pouring, freezing, rain.

With that settled, I changed into lighter clothes and accompanied Sargie for a mile up the road on her way to work. With icy conditions, I wanted to see first-hand the conditions she would be driving in. As it turned out, it wasn’t so bad and the road crews had laid down sand and chemicals in many places.

I walked home, settled down with a cup of coffee, and read and graded papers all morning.

I received a call from my second son, Luke, the firefighter. He told me he’d ranked in the top five in his district when taking his lieutenant’s test recently and will be interviewing in front of various administrators in the South Portland, Maine, for promotion. I’m sure proud of that boy… but then I’m proud of all four of my sons and their accomplishments. It’s the best part of being a parent!

The rain stopped falling shortly after lunchtime and with a temperature of 34 degrees, I decided it was time to go fishing. Hopping on the four-wheeler, I chugged up the road and after driving out onto the lake, tried to turn around and park the ATV at the boat ramp. Even driving in my old tracks, the slush was coming up to the belly of the machine and at one point, it became stuck. Thankfully, it’s an ATV. I got off, pushed a bit, then hurriedly hopped back on. In the end, I parked at the boat ramp and walked out to my fishing hole pulling the sled and Clam.

Fishing was good! I brought home seventeen, mostly good sized crappies.

I fished until almost dark (5 PM) and hated to quit while they were still hitting, but basically blind after the sun sets, I figured I better get back home. By the time I cleaned the fish, the kitchen counters and sink, and took a shower, Sargie was due home.

Last night was quiet. I read more assignments, we watched a bit of television, and were in bed early.

Sargie has a long day ahead and has to close tonight. I’ve received all my W2’s for filing my taxes and think I’ll plug a few numbers into the H&R Block calculator and decide if I should have someone else do my taxes or I’m comfortable letting the computer figure it all out. Last year, I used the H&R Block free software and it worked out well. This year, with retirement, moving, IRA’s, etc, I may have to have to hire a tax person.

A large pile of snow fell from the roof, hitting the flagpole and breaking the bracket that holds our American flag onto the porch railing. I think I’ll try to make a new bracket today. I have thought and re-thought the process and am going to try. Otherwise, it appears one has to purchase an entire American flag kit complete with the pole, flag, and bracket.

There’s a load or two of laundry to be done, wood to be carried in, and of course, papers to read and grade. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

A pileated woodpecker (Woody?) pounding on a tree in the back yard.

January 29, 2013 – Tuesday

32 degrees/rain/calm

Pentoga Road

Thankfully, it appears we may have dodged a freezing rain bullet this morning. I just walked outside and though the deck is slippery, it appears the ice is about to turn to liquid with the forecast high for today at 40 degrees. What goofy weather. It’s to turn back around with below zero temperatures forecast for later this week.

A nuthatch and chickadee share a cake of suet

Monday morning was spent clearing the six to eight inches of new snow received Sunday night. It was the perfect day. The sun was shining, the temperatures moderate, yet the snow remained light enough to handle without difficulty. I spent extra time cleaning the deck. With last night’s rain, it’s completely snow-free.

Mike and I decided to go fishing towards late morning. Riding double on the four-wheeler, we laughed our way down the road and out onto the lake. He caught one crappie. Nothing hit on my line. We decided to try it again later in the day and came back home.

I returned to a digital mountain of papers to read and grade. How difficult it was to keep my eyes open after being outside all morning and at one point, may have slipped off into a short grandpa nap… somewhere between reading about the migration of the Athabascan Indians and facts being reported concerning Alaska’s largest glacier. It’s all interesting stuff written by my students, but the urge to take a nap was greater.

It's amazing how large these woodpeckers are

Mike and I returned to the lake as the shadows were beginning to get long. It was slow at first, but the fish soon began hitting. Mike has company coming on Wednesday evening for supper and wants to serve fried fish. He’ll have plenty.

We are supposed to go fishing first thing this morning, but will wait until daylight to see what the weather is going to do. Mike’s returning to Marquette later today and I think I’ll work in the barn while the temperatures are still warm. It needs a good straightening before winter returns later this week. I’ve not walked in several days and it’s time to resume my daily exercise. With the girls here last weekend and the snowfall yesterday, I’ve been lax and my burgeoning belly is proof. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Over the river and through the woods... Sargie's off to work on Monday morning.

January 28, 2013 – Monday morning

28 degrees/snow/calm winds

Pentoga Road

So where did all this snow come from? The last I heard, a winter weather advisory had been posted with the mention of a couple of inches of snow. Someone lied. Even in the dark, I can see there’s much more than that. Although I hate to see Sargie driving in it, we need the moisture and after all, it’s late January in the UP. After a two-day thaw, the forecast is for temperatures to dip into the -15 degree range once again. The snow will help to protect the plants and insulate the ground.

Look who's back. Elmo took up residence in the barn and is living in the scrap wood box. He spent an hour on Sunday afternoon perched on the work bench chirping away and followed me around the barn.

I want to take this opportunity to congratulate my oldest son, Josh, on his assignment to the United States Coast Guard Academy. A graduate from the Academy, and a Lt. Commander in the Coast Guard presently assigned in Boston, Josh will join the faculty and be teaching engineering courses. 

Like his younger brother, Luke, who is always one-upping his father in the outdoor world, Josh is doing the same in the teaching field... and I couldn't be prouder. 

The United States Coast Guard Academy is the only service institution where student entrance is based entirely upon merit. There are no congressional appointments or political favors involved. Less than 16% of the applicants are accepted and of those, 25% don't make it through their first year. Ranked among the best of the best academically, (alongside the most prestigious schools in the US) to graduate is a real accomplishment and an honor. To be on the faculty means you're at the top of your field. Congratulations, Lt. Commander Pennington. As usual, you've made Dad a very proud man. I love you son.

It was amazing how quiet the house became last evening after our two mini-visitors left. Sargie and I have often talked about how much fun energy two little girls can have. As I often say, the only thing our home lacks is youth. I have to think that having nieces and grandchildren visit occasionally will help to rectify that situation.

Aubrey woke up a different girl on Sunday morning. Evidently, the tooth that had been hurting her on Saturday must have finished poking through during the night. She awakened a happy, cheerful, bubbly, one-year-old. We laughed and played throughout the day and once again, she loved her Uncle Tom and rewarded me with giggles, laughs, and loves.

Marley was in her usual happy, talkative mood and the house was filled with sounds of happy children.

Auntie Sargie was the cook Sunday morning and made French toast and sausage. Aubrey ate her breakfast of cereal and baby goodies then stood at my chair as I shoveled much of the contents from my plate into her open mouth. Oh yeah, Aubrey was back in the house and things were as they should be.

I announced I was going outside to play. Sargie wanted to take a shower, the cartoons were going to cease on the television and Uncle Tom was dressing in his heavy clothes. Marley opted to remain inside and play a solitary game of cards. Aubrey was happy to be dressed in her playsuit and accompany me.

We tried riding snowmobile, but the loud engine noise made her afraid. Ah, but the four-wheeler. The continual soft chugging of the engine seemed to calm her fears. She whimpered as we went through the soft snow, but when we hit a rough section, Aubrey began to laugh and scream. The rougher, the better, and by the end, the hesitant little passenger had become a four-wheeling, motor-crazed, potential snow-bogging, crazy girl.

After delivering my ATV buddy back into the house, I worked in the shop and made a brace for the extension of the rack I’d earlier built onto the four-wheeler. It works well for the ice fishing equipment, but I’ve been wanted to strengthen it before maple syrup season arrives. I was finished in forty-five minutes and I’ll have six weeks to perfect the process.

Mommy and Daddy arrived by mid-afternoon. The girls were very happy to see both and we enjoyed pizza, ice cream, and cookies. What a wonderful family.

Sargie commented last night that it didn’t take long to un-childproof the house. Within minutes, other than Marley’s forgotten blankie, all vestiges of the mini-munchkins’ visit had vanished. The  well-traveled in and very torn spaceship/box was burned, the hastily-made protective gates were put away, the coffee table was brought back into the living room, and the untouchable knick knacks once again became touchable.

Last night was quiet, almost too quiet. We relaxed and watched television. I graded papers and threw an occasional log into the fire. With the snow falling, it was a nice way to end a wonderful weekend.

Sargie works today and isn’t off until next Sunday. It’ll be a long one for her.

Neighbor Mike called last night and said he was planning on being at his camp early this morning and wanted to go ice fishing. It’s normally a two hour-plus drive from Marquette and with the snowfall we received, I’m not sure when he’ll arrive. It makes no difference. I want to wait until Sargie leaves for work and make sure she’s off in good shape. Thank God I kept the Blazer after retiring. We don’t use it often, but when we do, it’s worth its weight in gold. Well, okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but during these snowy periods, it’s valuable.

No doubt I’ll end up on the lake sometime today. The drive will have to be cleared of snow and there’ll be a stack of electronic assignments to grade. A man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Marley and Aubrey

January 27, 2013 – Sunday morning

5:46 AM

Pentoga Road

It’s quiet, I’ve taken my shower, steam is rising from my cup of coffee, and the fire is crackling in the stove. I’m enjoying some Uncle Tom, “me time.” It’s quiet; wonderfully, beautifully, remarkably, quiet.

When I arose earlier, around 4:30 AM, Sargie insisted I take the baby monitor with me. I selfishly declined, feigning I’d never hear it while taking a shower; and, if the baby did wake up, what was I going to do other than bring her to our bed?

I don’t do little girl diapers. Changing one almost ten years ago on my oldest granddaughter was frightening. After years of changing boys’ diapers, I was quickly reminded girls are built differently. They are lacking parts.

So, I’m enjoying the quiet, the fire, the coffee, the “me time.”

Auntie Sargie teaching Marley how to play "Go Fish"

The little house on Pentoga Road was transformed into a whirlwind of activity on Saturday. What fun we had! Poor little Aubrey is teething. With bright red cheeks, she was a happy girl for most the day… until naptime. The normally cheerful pixie became surly, then inconsolable, as she cried and clung to her Auntie Sargie.

The last time she stayed with us, Uncle Tom was the hero. This time, I’m invisible. No amount of tickles, smiles, faces, or funny sounds can earn so much as a glance from the one-year-old, drooling, teething, munchkin.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I received some smiles yesterday while sharing my pancake with Aubrey. For ten minutes, we became BFF’s and she looked at me with huge, loving eyes. I thought the love was for me, but quickly realized it was for my pancakes smothered in maple syrup. Uncle Tom was just the means to the end.

After discovering we were out of mix Saturday morning, I resurrected Grandma Pennington’s Super Duper pancake recipe and made a special M-Cake for Marley… M being the first letter in her name. I also introduced Marley to sugar-coated strawberries after which she said she would like to stay with us next summer when the berries are ripening so she can eat more.

Marley and I are buddies. We’ve played on the Pilates ball, had a big snowball fight outside, talked, and shared stories of preschool and other life-changing events over the past twenty-four hours.

Oh yeah... doesn't get much better than an empty cardboard box. Marley said it was her spaceship and she was flying to the moon.

Marley absolutely adores her Auntie Sargie and they definitely enjoyed some girl-bonding time. When Sargie was in the bathroom, Marley was happy to keep her company, watching everything her Auntie did while talking a mile a minute. Later, they played “make up.”

I continue to be amazed at the difference between little boys and girls. Having four sons and living with the mother of four more, my life has always been surrounded by testosterone. I completely understand the Pull-My-Finger syndrome and the need of a young boy to explore, push the boundaries, want to drive a four-wheeler, snowmobile, or even go ice fishing.

Aubrey and Marley have no such ambitions. They don’t even test my newly built gates in front of the woodstove or steps. I told each they shouldn’t touch them and they don’t. My sons would have not only climbed on them, they’d have had a blanket stretched across each in an attempt to make a super hideout.

Hmm, who's watching who?

Marley and I had a great snowball fight outside, but it was a delicate one. There were no headshots or faces washed in snow. Rather, one would grab a handful of white fluff and gently pour the loose snow onto the other’s back and together, we’d giggle. It was more of a snow exchange rather than a fight.

I discovered Marley’s unfamiliar with snowmobiles and four-wheelers and is afraid of the woods. As Sargie advised, I need to acclimate her to the more rural lifestyle in baby steps and I heard her later tell Marley that Auntie Sargie was afraid when she first moved to Pentoga Road. I forget that unlike the Pennington boys, who grew up in the wilds of northern Maine, Marley’s a town girl and that’s okay. We’ve got years to play in the woods and on the water. I’ll teach her in small increments and she can learn to enjoy both.

But, indoors or out, we had lots of fun on Saturday. The Pilates ball, the one I lay on backwards to stretch my once-broken spine, seems to be the most favorite toy. Marley played with it for hours and Aubrey enjoyed occasionally pushing it around the house.

You can't beat watching Saturday morning cartoons while perched on a Pilates ball

A Happy Meal run was made into town late Saturday afternoon. Again, the difference between little girls and little boys; Marley made that Happy meal last for over an hour, nibbling at a chicken nugget, then breaking a French fry into several pieces and enjoying each. My boys would have eaten the entire meal, free toy included, in under two minutes, then asked what was for supper.

Little Aubrey quickly grew tired early Saturday evening. With rosy red cheeks and glassy eyes, she clung to her Auntie Sargie and when asked if she wanted to go to bed, she almost smiled. Aubrey was all done in, aching gums and all.

And so went Saturday. Today appears as though it will be a carbon copy. I’m not sure what special treat I’ll fix for breakfast. After all, we rarely have the little ones, so it has to be something fun; maybe French toast covered in sugar and cinnamon and sprinkled with chocolate chips.

Mommy and Daddy will be visiting this afternoon to pick up their most precious cargo. I think Sargie’s going to have pizza while as we attempt to get caught up on the weekend’s activities.

Sargie works tomorrow. Neighbor Mike, from Marquette, is driving down to his camp and wants to go ice fishing early in the morning. I told him I’d be ready. Other than Yooper Brother Mark and Jerad, he’s the only person who knows where I fish and my methods. Mike’s looking for a mess of crappies. I’ll attempt to pull out some guiding skills and see if we can’t catch some meat for his table.

There will be assignments pouring in and papers to grade. So far, classes are going well and I’m enjoying teaching this semester a great deal.

It’s time to get another cup of coffee and throw another log on the fire. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Jimmy, the orphan fawn

January 25, 2014 – Friday morning

10 degrees/heavy snow

Pentoga Road

I wasn’t going to write until Sunday morning, but I thought since Marley and Aubrey are coming for the weekend, I’d better seize the opportunity while it’s still quiet. Well, there’s that, plus I’m putting off cleaning. I promised Sargie I would use a steamer and clean the wood floors today. And then there’s the dusting and running the sweeper on the rugs, and putting everything within a one-year-old’s vicinity out of reach. I’m definitely procrastinating.

Sitting here looking at everything that needs to be placed out of harm's way makes me tired. Maybe I ought to have another cup of coffee and think about it.

It’s snowing… very heavy snow that is coming straight down. If there were any wind, it would be a mess, but there's none and it’s beautiful… and as I’ve said in the past, we need the moisture. Let ‘er snow. Sargie took the Blazer to work this morning. It’s much heavier than the Kia, plus the SUV has four-wheel-drive, something that very well may be useful by day’s end.

A doe walking from the back yard with heavy snow falling

This past week can best be summarized by saying it’s been cold, very cold. There were several days that the temperature didn’t climb above zero and on one of those, the wind gusted to 30 mph and over. I’m very proud of our little home. It’s tight and snug, but on that day, even it was chilly. I kept the stove red hot and finally, I put a small electric heater in the kitchen.

I was teasing Sargie when she commented how cold she felt. I told her that at least, it’s a dry cold. That didn’t earn me any brownie points.

A red grosbeak. That's the feeder the bear disassembled last year. I fixed it, them dropped it when hanging it up several weeks ago. I'll make another attempt to straighten, staple, and glue it after the weather warms. The birds don't seem to mind.

Speaking of dry, a bit of FYI: I’m filling the gallon kettle on the wood stove three and often, four times a day. That comes to over a hundred gallons of water that is evaporating into the air each month. It’s worth it. We’ve not had any dry noses, scratchy throats, or colds so far this winter.

Lord, I remember when living at Hilltop of the horrible nosebleeds I’d suffer. Even with a pot of snow/water atop the wood stove, I couldn’t get enough moisture into the air. The membranes of my nose would crack and bleed as would my lips; even the skin behind my ears and between my fingers and toes.  This is child’s play compared to those days.

Jimmy, the grosbeak, and a flock of common redpolls all eating at the same time. 

We’re to climb to a more seasonal norm these next few days before dipping into a deep freeze again in the middle of next week. One thing for sure, when I went fishing yesterday, the first time all week, I noticed the ice had more than doubled. It’s well over two-feet thick now and growing. I wouldn’t be surprised to see it double again by winter’s end.

The trucks of ice fishermen out on a local lake

Speaking of fishing, I did well on Thursday; ending up with 8 large crappies, four average bluegills, and four medium sized crappies. I’ll be heading out again this afternoon in search of meat for the table.

With her house almost sold, (closing is in another couple of weeks) Mom is heading back to her digs in Indiana this weekend. My sister and her husband went down to help bring Mom’s remaining items back. I know after selling the boat, what a relief it is when free from the responsibilities of ownership. Mom and Dad’s house has been on the market for close to three years. As Mom said, she’s ready to close that book and begin another chapter. Knowing Mom, she’ll have six or eight before she’s finished!

Despite the temperatures, I’ve continued walking. I need to get some regular hiking boots. The ones I’ve been using, inexpensive glorified combat boots, are beginning to rub a couple of my toes. It doesn’t seem like much, but when one considers I’m hiking 35 miles a week, a rubbed toe can be a major malady.

There’s been some progress made on the book during the early morning hours, although I’ve taken a break the past two days. So far, two chapters have been carved and hacked from the English vocabulary. I find I’m composing as it comes to me, not necessarily in any sequence of events. Someday, I’ll have to collect all the pieces and tie everything together.   

As mentioned, Marley and Aubrey are coming to visit this weekend. Sargie will be bringing them from Iron Mountain late this afternoon. I spent part of yesterday morning in the shop building gates for in front of the wood stove and the steps going upstairs. Initially I thought I would inlay the pieces at a slant with a router, but I quickly discovered working in -3 temperatures barehanded necessitate I construct the strongest, quickest, most-effective barrier, possible. They came out looking like miniature farm gates, but these will be used to keep the munchkins out, not the farm animals in. By the way, the gate in front of the steps is held in place with a wood clamp. It must be in the water… real Alaskan - Yooper ingenuity.

So with all that being said, it’s time to begin the process of cleaning the house. You know, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Ready to go fishing this past week

January 20, 2013 – Sunday morning

0 degrees/clear/windy

Pentoga Road

I was wise to take a break from writing as this week has been a carbon copy of last, and that one, of the week before. It’s deep winter in the UP.

Just like the arctic, those who enjoy the cold weather do what they can outside and the rest, stay buttoned up inside waiting for spring.

This couple told me that with the current snowfall and cold conditions, cross country skiing has never been better. They were skiing across the ten-mile long lake.

Even spending most of the daylight hours outside, my activities are limited. I ice fish, walk, and play in the shop when its warm enough I can work without wearing gloves and am able to wear the magnifiers. It’s hard to fit those big ol’ lenses over a stocking cap and hood.

(The following are all fish caught this past week. I have to take pictures to send to Luke... my son who always out-fishes his father!)

Part of Saturday morning's catch. We ate these and more for Saturday night's fish fry.

One crappie was two pounds, the other a bit over a pound-and-a-half.

There’s always wood to bring in and occasionally, I fire up the snow thrower and clean the drive. The bird feeders are refilled every other day and corn is put out for the deer each afternoon.

If I’m not outside, I’m usually grading the electronic stacks of assignments sent from my students. I’ve got some very large classes this semester and whoever the person is who assigns these papers must be an old, demanding, ugly, professorial, curmudgeon. 

When talking about retirement the other day, someone asked if there’s anything I’d do differently. I couldn’t think of a thing. I’ve had peaks and valleys as we all have, very dark times and some that were brilliant, but honestly, God and a few dozen guardian angels walk with me continually. Even when I’m physically by myself during the days, I never feel alone, and when I find myself somewhat lost, there’s always a hand to put me back on the right path.

That’s my life and it’s a good one.

I should never close my eyes when Sargie's around. I was fulfilling my responsibility as a grandpa by taking the mandatory afternoon Grandpa nap. Here is proof when I say, "A man's work is never done." And yes, this grandpa likes his blankie.

My mornings begin the same. I arise shortly after 5 AM and make my way downstairs to stoke the woodstove so the house might be warm by the time Sargie awakens at 6. I write my emails, check the weather, read a bit of news, and usually, I’m chugging down the road on my four-wheeler by sunup. Lately, I’ve had to wear my old arctic gear, the beaver skin hat, heavy mitts, and face mask. It doesn’t take long for frostbite to occur when the temperature is below zero and one is traveling out in the open at twenty mph.

The fish quit biting around 9 AM and generally, I’m home and have my catch cleaned by 10. It’s a comfortable routine.

Sargie and I are getting excited that Marley and Aubrey will be visiting next weekend. Ah, a one-year-old and a four-year-old. I’ve often said the only thing lacking in this home is youth and in a few days, we’re going to be injected with all kinds of it.

I purchased some 1x2’s yesterday with which to make a gate to place in front of the wood stove. I’ll also make another to put at the foot of the steps. I see all kinds of grandma/grandpa-type knickknacks that will have to be placed out of harm’s way. We’re looking forward to a weekend with the girls.

With -20 forecast for Monday night, I added more antifreeze to the Blazer on Saturday afternoon. Even using the box to lay on, it was still cold on the ground.

It appears Mom finally sold her home in Florida and has cleaned out the last vestiges of her and Dad’s life together in the Deep South. They purchased the home over twenty years ago when Dad retired and even after he passed away, Mom remained for several years. With a horrible economy, Mom’s had a tough time selling the house, but finally, barring a catastrophe, it appears another retired couple who are just as eager and excited to begin their lives in Florida as Mom and Dad were, will be able to call the place their own.

I received a large box from Mom the other day containing some personal goods from Florida. There was a large picture of Dad, one I’d taken in Northern Maine many years ago. There were books, an old ashtray from the company where Dad spent his entire working life, a carved statue of Mom that was given to her for her many years of service as a school secretary, and an old wooden box that Dad kept on top of his dresser in which he kept stuff; change, cufflinks, and the things that only a man can put into a box on top of his dresser.

This carved figurine, desk, books, and all, was presented to Mom in 1982.

Mom said Dad received this ashtray from his company around 1955. I was three. The insurance company has since changed it's name and has expanded into a corporate conglomerate.

Holding the small box that belonged to Dad, I couldn’t help but think that someday, my sons will be doing the same with mine, the one that contains the things that only a man can put into a box that sits on top his dresser.

The weather is getting colder and more deer are coming to the back yard for their daily allowance of corn. There’s a mom with twin fawns, both quite small for this time of the year. Sometimes, there are as many as eight or ten deer, other times, a single fawn stands out there by himself, nosing around in the snow looking for a single kernel of corn.

We enjoyed fried fish, shrimp, and French fries last night. Since Sargie had to work yesterday, we decided to delay our Friday night fish fry until Saturday. We experimented and included sweet potato fries with our meal. Those received two thumbs and big toe up.

Sargie's mixing up her secret fish batter that contains exotic herbs and spices known only to her.

After, for dessert, I rolled out pie dough, buttered it, sprinkled the entire thing with sugar and cinnamon, then sprinkled marshmallows on top. After a few minutes in the oven, it was delicious… too delicious. Coupled with two glasses of cold milk, I ate entirely too much.

I didn’t sleep very well last night; neither did Sargie. It’s probably not very wise to eat heavy fried food then go to bed an hour or two later. Lesson learned, but will it be heeded? Right now, I’d say it will be, but ask me next Friday night when it’s cold and snowy, and we’re hungry for a good old-fashioned fish fry. How quickly we forget.

I should go for my daily five-mile stroll, but with the winds howling outside and the temperature still registering a big, fat, zero, I think I’ll pour myself another cup of coffee and begin reading any assignments that came in overnight. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…