March 13, 2013 – Wednesday

11 degrees/clear/breezy

Pentoga Road

I was just looking at the extended ten-day forecast. It appears winter is going to be with us right up until spring officially begins, possibly longer. The weatherman keeps changing the forecast with temperatures sinking daily and now, there’s the chance of a goodly amount of snow to fall next Monday.

For the past several years, we’ve been lulled into thinking early spring temperatures are the norm, not the exception. Three years ago, I tapped trees wearing only a light jacket. The year after, it rained when Andy and I gathered sap. Last year, all-time high temperatures were breached by forty degrees when it reached eighty the third week of March. We didn't bother to tap. It was too warm. In fact, several of my fruit trees started to leaf out.

I’m beginning to get the same feeling as I did many years ago when living in northern Maine. The boys and I would hunt and trap through the fall, ice fish during the winter months, and tap trees in the spring… but there was always a few weeks where none of those things could happen; so we sat, we dreamed, we planned, and we got on each other’s nerves.

It was between basketball and baseball season for the boys. Until each became of age to get an afterschool job, he’d come home, pretend to do some kind of homework, then watch television and complain of being bored.

I was no better. After a day in education, I was ready for some sort of physical activity. Due to cold and mud, there simply wasn’t anything to do outdoors. The internet was nonexistent, I didn’t care to watch hours of television, and even in those days, my eyes grew tired from reading. There was too much glop and slush on the lakes to go ice fishing and it was either too cold and snowy or too muddy to venture outside.

Some things haven’t changed. Oh, I could go snowshoeing and enjoy the woods, but the snow has either become heavy and wet, a snowshoer’s nightmare, or a crust has formed on the surface making navigation difficult. Besides, I’ve played in the snow for the past four months. I’m ready for a change.

Similar conditions occurred in the Arctic. Marooned by overflow and slush on the river and ocean, I’d be stuck at my cabin for four to six weeks until the ice went out. There was little internet (satellite), no television, and one local radio station. No wonder Casey the dog knew so many tricks… that was all there was to do… teach the pooch tricks. To make matters worse, meat often ran low and the shelves grew bare. I never came close to going hungry, but I wasn’t allowed the luxury of grazing due to pure boredom.

So what’s a guy supposed to do? I could work on the book, substitute teach, trek through the woods, clean the basement, join the local gym, or strip the upstairs bathroom of wallpaper. I need to take a load of garbage to the dump, the barn always could use straightening, and there’s more wood to stack. But what I really want to do is something useful and fun. I want to tap trees, get ready to plant a garden, take the deck off the rider mower and sharpen the blades. I want to do something spring-like where I’m not constantly blowing on my hands and rubbing them together. But according to the long range forecast, it’s not going to happen this week, or next, or even the one after.

I like short days, strong winds heavy with snow, and freezing temperatures. But some things never change, including my impatience for spring to arrive. It’s time.

Tuesday’s trip to Green Bay was uneventful. I was delighted when the box containing the 6x8 foot greenhouse kit fit inside the Blazer with half an inch to spare. I couldn’t see out the passenger side window or use the interior rearview mirror, but I went slow, stayed in the right-hand lane, and was back home by 1 PM.

I love the talking GPS. The mini-computer told me where to go (as I said earlier, some things never change) where and how far until I was to turn, and my location at any given time. It's sure makes driving a lot easier.

The rest of the day was spent grading assignments. We’re getting towards the end of the semester where those students who are behind are really behind and those who have stayed current are anxious to finish. It will all be over in six weeks. I’ll have two weeks to catch my breath before the summer session begins.

Sargie was home early last night and we enjoyed an evening of talking and simply being together. We combined our culinary skills to make a HUGE salad that contained everything from almonds to chicken, bacon, and every kind of vegetable known to modern man.

The Vision Center is on summer hours and Sargie has to work until 8 this evening. Thankfully, she’s off tomorrow.

I almost forgot. I was getting the paper yesterday and feeding the chickadees along the way when I heard a different type of fluttering. I stopped and still holding my hand out filled with black sunflower seeds, Harry, the Hairy Woodpecker, powered in and landed for a snack. With his long beak and strong pecking motion, he’s not nearly as gentle as the chickadees, but it was neat to have a woodpecker on my hand. I’m delicate and the holes he left in my palm should heal in the next month or two. <-exaggeration. Naturally, when I reached for my camera, the bird took off, but I hope to get a picture of him in the near future.

Today. Well, let’s see, I want to get completely current on all assignments and be ready to meet the end of the semester rush head on. I’d like to begin assembling the greenhouse in the barn, but it’s simply too cold. I think I’ll gather my tax documents and start that process. I hope there’ll be some money coming back this year. No doubt, I’ll take my five-mile walk and then there’s the mandatory afternoon Grandpa nap. As you can see, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…