A path had to be cleared to take the trash from the garage to the cans in back of the wood shed on Thursday.

February 15, 2013 – Friday

2 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

I wonder if I ought to be alarmed that I’m up to drinking two cups shy of a full pot of coffee each day?

When I first started teaching, forty years ago, it was with a great deal of pride that I inhaled a pot a day. I had a small office and someone had given me a newly-invented machine called a Mr. Coffee. A person put some grounds in a white filter, poured water in a tank, and ten minutes later, he was sipping coffee.

It was a couple of years after I quit drinking that I came to the conscious decision to wean myself off of coffee. I’d quit smoking earlier in life, had learned to live without alcohol, why should I be dependent on caffeine?

It wasn’t difficult. I was living in the cabin north of the Arctic Circle and heating water on the wood stove was much easier than making coffee. Green tea became my beverage of choice and the rest was history… until I slipped and began running around with the notorious Alaskan gang known simply as The Grandpas.

I blame The Grandpas for reintroducing coffee into my life.

Darn ‘em, anyway.

I became a member of the Sitka, Alaska, Chapter of Coffee with the Grandpas several years ago and in true Grandpa tradition, began taking advantage of McDonalds dollar senior citizens all-you-can-drink coffee daily special… and here I am, back in the gutter, drinking two cups shy of a full pot of coffee every day.

The Grandpas are a wild bunch. Led by Uncle Bobby, Rod, and Greg, each delights in pretending to talk about grandchildren, family, fishing, church, and the weather, but I know their whole purpose is to lead their followers down the road to Coffee Perdition. For effects, they’re even joined occasionally by the pastor of the local Nazarene Church and they freely interact with the Young Life group, a herd of teens sponsored by the Presbyterian Church who meet every morning for fellowship at McDonalds.

I have a very addictive personality and have always said that I’d get hooked on dog poop if it would give me a buzz. (Don’t worry, Mom, it was just an example.) So what’s next, an increase in the discount citrus soda pop I buy by the case when we visit Green Bay? I already notice my consumption of ice cream has increased. It’s a vice I battle nightly, usually between the hours of 7 and 9 PM. And that will, no doubt, lead to an extra squirt of chocolate sauce over the top, assuming Sargie’s not watching.

I suppose an evening cup of coffee with my ice cream smothered in chocolate sauce will follow;  and I owe it all to Coffee with the Grandpas. Golly I miss my friends. I sure love them and would drink coffee with that rowdy bunch of Alaskans any ol' day.

I've got to say hello to Bill from Appleton, Wisconsin. Bill left a comment on yesterday's blog. Come to find out, he's my next door neighbor... well, almost. There are only five of us that live on the entire length of Pentoga Road so if nothing else, he's the next door neighbor to my next door neighbor... who is over a mile away. Bill has a cabin a mile up the Mighty Brule from Pentoga and has promised to honk when he drives by tonight.

Do better than that, stop in sometime, Bill! I guess you know we're the second house on the left at the bottom of the hill. (Third house if you count the one a mile and half up on the curve by the main road.)

Valentine’s Day was pretty laid back on Pentoga Road. Sargie and I exchanged gifts; she gave me some wonderful bathroom reading material (really, it says that on the cover!), a long sleeved t-shirt, and a new Dremel 300. I wore my old one out last year after many years of carving and use.

I gave Sargie a dozen red roses. In the end, we held hands and I didn’t run like I did from Susy Sandstrom in first grade. 

I read and graded assignments during the morning hours. The quality of work from this semester’s munchkins is so good. Most of them are grown-up’s, professionals earning another certification, mostly in teaching or social services.

Sargie spent a romantic day cleaning the house. She ran the vacuum on both floors, scrubbed and dusted. The house looks beautiful.

I retired to the garage in the afternoon hours and began sorting and shifting much of the contents to the barn. But, to have room in the barn, I needed to sort and clean there. At one point, Sargie yelled out a window and asked which I was cleaning, the garage or barn?

By the end of the day, both were much more organized. There’s still plenty of room for tidiness, but they’ll do for now.

Sargie made a pizza last night for supper. We played cards, watched a bit of television, and true to our wild, late-night, out of control ways, were in bed by 9:30.

I’m not sure what today will bring. We’re going over to Iron Mountain later this afternoon to have dinner with Mr. Milligan. I’ve been reading and watching videos on how to make a hearth. The one made of white tile has to go.

I didn’t walk yesterday, so there’re five miles to put under my feet, and if the wind stays down, I might go out onto the lake in search of meat for the table. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

I backed the tractor out of the barn and let it idle. Other than an oil change, it's ready for the coming summer's work.