A ruffled grouse eating seed that has dropped below the bird feeder

January 10, 2013 – Thursday

16 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

There’s not much to write about this morning. Such is the problem when one no longer fords raging rivers, crosses high mountain peaks, or endures negative fifty-degree temperatures in the name of education.

Wednesday was very windy. I took my walk and was almost exhausted when I finally arrived back home. The hills and valleys along the five-mile hike hadn’t gotten any steeper, but finishing the last two miles bent over against a thirty mile per hour wind was tiresome. 

The wind wasn't bothering the wild turkeys.

I tried playing outside after, but even with temperatures hovering around freezing, it seemed cold. I finally gave up and resigned myself to being confined in the house.

I did some cleaning and housework and later, got down to business and took a nap. Sitting by the wood stove, listening to a mixture of music and blowing wind, it didn’t take long to fall into a wonderful half-hour slumber. I think I’m beginning to get the hang of this Grandpa-daily-nap regimen.

Sargie taught me that if one puts a half gallon jug of water in the reservoir, a lot of water can be saved when flushing. She's not only a optician, the girl's also a toiletologist!  

The afternoon was spent watching all four parts of an older History Channel mini-series called Klondike: The Quest for Gold. It was a wonderful way to spend the afternoon and I hated to see it end. I love anything historical and this was well done. The producer had chosen four men and one woman to reenact the 1897 gold rush to the Klondike. Everything was of the era, all late 1800’s clothing, food, and equipment. It was really interesting. I give it a hardy two thumbs and a big toe up.

A Common Redpoll 

After working all day and having supper with Mr. Milligan, Sargie didn’t arrive home until later in the evening. Thankfully, she’s off early today and for the near future.

I plan to head out onto the ice first thing this morning in search of meat for the table. The temperatures are to be in the upper thirties with calm winds and plenty of sun. It was on days like the one forecast that I used to get sunburned when living north of the Arctic Circle. Sitting out on the ice in heavy clothes, I’d soon become too hot with the sun beating down directly, so I’d begin to take off the cumbersome outer layers. More than once, I ended the afternoon wearing only a t-shirt and jeans with my arms, face, and neck, looking as though I’d just returned from the tropics.

Friday is to be warm once again with a chance of rain or snow. With a foot of ice on the area lakes, one doesn’t have to worry about the elevated temperatures, but it doesn't sound like much fun for ice fishing. 

By the way, the extended forecast calls for highs in the teens, lows in the single numbers, beginning on Sunday. Our midwinter reprieve is about over.

Since Sargie will be home early this evening, I hope to catch enough fish to put meat on tonight’s table. If I don’t, there are deer tenderloins currently marinating that will be plopped on the grill. Those, along with a baked potato and salad, should taste mighty fine.

Time to move along. As Dad used to say, “There are barges to tote and bales to lift,” a reference to the musical, Show Boat. A man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

The beginning of a beautiful day