Sargie and Brutus playing his favorite game... getting squirted with the hose

May 31, 2013 – Friday

63 degrees/cloudy/calm/humid

Pentoga Road

Now there’s something I’ve never seen before; a gold finch drinking from the hummingbird feeder. There was no time to snap a picture. I really wish I could hang the finch feeder, but I don’t care to have every black bear in the world attending a buffet in our back yard.

Thursday was kind of a strange day. Sargie busied herself doing laundry… that is until the big storm came crashing through. Right now, the lines are full of wet clothes that hung overnight. Hearing the forecast, it sounds like they may be there a while. Oh well, we’ll have some of the softest and best smelling clothes around.

I worked on the park bench, making a form to mold around the broken area and mixing cement with as much water as possible to make a smooth patch. I checked yesterday afternoon and it appeared as though it might work. I’ll know more this morning.

I rebuilt the steps on the back patio. They should be good for a few more years.

Storms appeared on the horizon during the late afternoon and soon gusts of wind were buffeting Pentoga Road. Sargie was at the clothesline when a large maple tree, one not far from where she was standing, cracked and fell into another tree.

Several minutes later, more strong gusts brought the tree crashing to the ground. I’m glad it fell. Caught up in the trees, the thing was a real widow maker. Worse yet, it was dangerously close to the woodsheds and kayaks. As it was, it missed them completely.

The wind was roaring, the rain pelting. I ran upstairs to close our bedroom window. Returning to the first floor, I yelled for Sargie and barely heard her voice in reply. I screamed for her to get into the house. It was suddenly very black and the wind was roaring through the valley. I thought she was outside trying to get the clothes off the line. We later laughed. She was in the basement putting clothes in the dryer, the safest place she could be.

I was concerned about the greenhouse. It’s never been in a big windstorm and is supposed to be anchored to the ground in a conventional manner, bolted to buried concrete footings rather than weighted down with 500 lbs of cement blocks. The greenhouse survived the wind in great shape. All the panels remained in place and it looks no worse for the wear.

Naturally, we lost our electricity and it didn’t reappear for over four hours. Meanwhile, we enjoyed hamburgers on the grill for supper and passed the time playing rummy. Sargie even let me win!

There was a strange and tragic accident happen not far from here yesterday. A seventy-one year old man was mowing his lawn by a river when his mower slipped off the bank and landed on him. The man was trapped in two feet of water and drowned. You never know when it’s your time.

Today is shaping up to be a busy one. I’m to talk with around twenty college-age counselors for a couple of hours at Fortune Lake Camp this afternoon at 1 PM. I feel like the opening act for a teachers’ in-service at the beginning of a school year. The first of this summer’s campers arrive Sunday afternoon.

Sargie will be bringing Aubrey and Marley home with her this afternoon; and for supper tonight? I think we’ll go to McDonalds for Happy Meals. I know, I know… ol’ Great Uncle Tom’s a real softie. Give me a couple of good-looking girls who also like to cuddle and I’m a push over for a Happy Meal every time.

I’m going to cut the wood for the park bench this morning and try to put together a few thoughts for this afternoon’s presentation. As I said, it’s shaping up to be a busy day. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

The old apple tree, the one we hang our bird feeders from in the back yard, is in its final season. Each spring I remove more dead branches. This year, only one is showing life and is filled with beautiful blossoms, a fitting tribute to an old veteran that has, no doubt, supplied the fillings to many pies over the past century.

May 30, 2013 – Thursday

66 degrees/clear/breezy/humid

Pentoga Road

It feels more like the beginning of August this morning than the end of May. Just enough rain fell last night that coupled with this morning’s sunshine and warm temperatures, there’s a sauna-like effect going on. The forecast is calling for thunderstorms and showers later today, tomorrow, and Saturday. Sunday night’s low? 34 degrees. Naturally.

Wednesday was a busy one on Pentoga Road. Just as I was finishing writing the log, the International Cub dealer called saying the mower was fixed. I wound through the woods in the Man Truck, paid the man, and brought the machine home. The owner of the business made the comment several times that other than a broken belt that hit the fan and caused it to break, how many parts were missing. I guess they'd vibrated off the mower over the years.

I cleared a space in back of the greenhouse, working up the ground, and planted several Connecticut Field pumpkin seeds. Originally, I was going to sow them in pots in the orchard, but decided to go ahead and put them directly in the ground. I think they’ll do better.

I did plant the mini-table top pumpkins, both yellow and white, in large pots. I mixed a combination of potting soil, topsoil, and regular old dirt and as an experiment, planted large pumpkins, Connecticut Field, in two of the pots.

Six more eggplants were put in the ground as well as six Brussels’ sprouts. Late broccoli and cauliflower plants will follow later this summer for a fall harvest… I hope. Other than subsequent plantings of beans and beets, this summer’s garden is finished.

           

It was late afternoon by the time I finished the pumpkin projects and turned my attention to an old cement park bench that belonged to a distant relative of Sargie’s. I spent quite a while researching how to fix cement furniture and learned that epoxy is recommended followed by more cement. I had some high-powered epoxy and fastened everything together last night. It appears that repair was successful and hopefully, after I fill in a hole with cement, the bench will be ready to paint and be placed in the garden in front of the greenhouse.

After closing the Vision Center and arriving home late last night, Sargie’s off today. No doubt, part of this afternoon will be spent making the house ready for our great nieces, Aubrey and Marley, who are to arrive for the weekend Friday afternoon. I hope the weather is decent as we’re planning a marshmallow roast and possibly kayaking around the edge of our local lake. The girls have a huge above ground pool at their house so they are no strangers to water. 

It’s time to move along. I think I’m going to mix a small amount of cement and attempt to put the finishing touches on the old park bench. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Brutus seldom leaves my side and as usual, is inspecting everything I do.

May 29, 2013 – Wednesday

54 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

We received some much-needed rain last night and this morning, Oz has nothing over my little valley on Pentoga Road. The green is so… green… that it could be described as almost dazzling. I love this time of the year. Everything seems to be in a hurry to grow, the birds are singing, fruit trees blossoming, and seeds sprouting in the garden.

An old commercial bread rack I use to screen the dirt before planting

Speaking of fruit trees; I plucked forty or fifty blossoms off a small dwarf apple tree I planted last year. The limbs aren't much bigger than a good-sized pencil and more than one or two would cause any limb to sag towards the trunk. I left three blossoms on the biggest branches, all low and next to the trunk, but basically, it’s has been deflowered. I’ll let it grow another year before allowing it to bear fruit.

The majority of Tuesday was spent planting in the garden. More beets were sown as well as carrots, several varieties of flowers, bush beans, and sun flowers. Another hour or two of planting should see that chore completed. My horticultural attentions will then be turned towards maintaining what is growing.

I was weeding the strawberry bed by the barn and came across a particularly well rooted clump of grass. I dug, then pried, and was prying with all my might when the handle on my favorite trowel snapped.

It’s a Walmart cheapie, one I purchased years ago for under $2, but still, I liked the shape, narrow, pointed, and long.

I tried using another trowel, but it was round and made for transplanting flowers into pots. What to do?

There’s a box of stuff in the shop containing everything from broken parts of gardening equipment to a piece of light switch. It’s the shop’s equivalent to THE kitchen drawer… one that almost everyone has in which there’s a token hammer, screwdriver, wall hanging nails, tape, rubber bands, razor blades, and... stuff.

I found an old handle from a cement trowel, cut it to size, ground, sanded, brushed, and finally welded. My new (old) trowel is about the ugliest tool in my collection, but it works, it’s mine, and I like it. New handle/same blade. Perfect.

Mark and Sheri came out last night and got some rhubarb. It’s growing inches a day and is thick and lush this year. I’ll separate the roots this fall to make some new plants. Honestly, if I eat a dessert containing rhubarb once or twice a year, I’m satisfied, usually a rhubarb/strawberry pie or some such concoction, but otherwise, I grow it to give away.

Sargie arrived home in the dark and wet. I warmed up some chicken/wild rice soup and along with hot biscuits, we talked about the day and enjoyed our comfort food. Sheri had brought out some friendship bread that was absolutely to-die-for good. We enjoyed every last morsel for dessert.

Turnips

Sheri also gave me a Topsy Turvy Hummingbird Hangout Planter. One plants flowers like petunias in it for the hummingbirds to gather nectar from. I’ll pick up some flowers in the next day or two and give it a try. I’ve not had a lot of success with tomatoes grown upside down, but flowers might be a different story.

I wish the darn knee would heal so I could resume hiking. Overcast and cool, this would be a good ten-mile day. I guess I’m going to have to break down and go see a doctor. The knee’s still swollen and stiff and I find the only real relief I get is by gulping handfuls of ibuprofen. I may borrow Macrea’s bicycle that is in storage and try biking, something that is less stressful on the joints. I’ve always had a fantasy of biking cross country and camping out at nights, maybe biking to Indiana to see Mom or out to the East Coast to see the sons. Whatever I do, I need to get active again. I’m beginning to feel more like a slug than a human.

Sargie’s working late tonight so I’ll be left to my own devices today. I’m going to fill some large pots in which to plant some Connecticut Field pumpkins. With the giant Dill Atlantic Pumpkins growing in the regular garden, there’s no room for those of the Halloween variety. I’ll try placing them in pots in the orchard where there’s more room. I’ve not grown pumpkins this way before, but there’s always a first.

YAY! The mower repairman just called and said the Cub Cadet is fixed and ready to go. He was good naturedly teasing me about the wear and tear on the machine. After several years of rough and tough mowing, it’s beginning to show some age. This fix came complete with two new belts and some nuts, bolts, and washers that were missing. I think for this mower, from now on, it’s one year at a time. I’ll keep it running as long as possible, hopefully for several more.

It’s about time to wake Sargie for the day and get myself in gear. A man’s work is never done, you know.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

May 28, 2013 – Tuesday

51 degrees/partly cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

It’s mating season in the world of the white-throated sparrow. There are several males whistling loudly close to the house this morning, each attempting to attract a mate. I’m not sure if any have scored with a female, but all certainly have my attention. Their song is like music in the North Woods this time of the year. It signals summer is near.

Memorial Day was a busy one. I wrote and uploaded the log then graded fourteen assignments. After, I moved to the garden and planted basil, cucumbers, pumpkins, Waltham Butternut squash, sunflowers, and pole beans. It seems as though I just got good and dirty when Sargie yelled out the window saying it was time to head to Milligan Mountain.

The beets are beginning to poke through the ground. It’s an exciting time of year if one likes gardening.

We had a good time with the Milligan Clan on Monday. After the initial hugs, kisses, and handshakes, I parked myself in the front room and played with niece Brielle. At eight months of age, she’s all eyes and personality and continues to steal everyone’s heart.

Five-year-old Marley wandered in and we talked for quite a bit. Marley and Aubrey will be with us next weekend and we always enjoy when they stay with us. It also gives Derek and Leah, their mom and dad, a rare chance to enjoy each other without worrying about the girls. Hopefully the weather will be nice so we can kayak around the shore of the local lake and roast marshmallows outside.

Brats, wieners, potato salad, chicken thighs, spaghetti, lemon fluff salad, tossed salad, baked beans, ice cream cones, and other goodies too numerous to mention, highlighted the Memorial Day meal. We arrived home with bellies that were way too full.

A stop was made at the Foster City cemetery where Sargie placed flowers on the graves of those relatives who have passed before. I really like the area that has been dedicated to veterans. Adorned with flags along a lengthy brick walk, it culminates in a beautiful memorial and wall. For a very small community, one that is officially listed in the ghost towns of America, Foster City pays honor to our fallen veterans in a fashion that far exceeds most large cities.

Marcrea and Mel left soon after we arrived home. They had an hour-and-a-half drive to Marquette and today’s a workday. I played fetch with Brutus for half an hour in an attempt to wear him out and Sargie and I watched television for the rest of the evening.

Speaking of Brutus; it must have finally sunk into his big ol’ bulldog head that he didn’t need to perform and act like a spoiled four-year-old child when we have company. He was his normal, loveable, self yesterday and is back in the will.

Sargie works early today and will have supper with Mr. Milligan at the VA Hospital this evening. The weather forecast has changed and the possibility of rain has diminished. I need to take the mower to the shop to be fixed and will hopefully spend the rest of the day planting in the garden.

Time to get Sargie up for the day and grab another cup of coffee. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Trilliums

May 27, 2013 – Monday – Memorial Day

34 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

As we remember those who sacrificed their lives for our freedom and liberty, may we pause today to honor each. To serve one’s country is a sacrifice. To give one’s life to protect the very Constitution that comes under attack daily is the ultimate sacrifice. God bless the USA. God bless those who serve and have served, those who have died protecting our freedom. God bless America. Amen.

Sargie placed flags in all our flower boxes in remembrance

The kids arrived early Sunday afternoon and we had a good day of talking, messing around in the yard, playing board games, and simply being lazy. Macrea and Mel brought two new games (neither of which I can remember its name) and we laughed through an evening of good natured competition.

Mel

I put the mower back together on Sunday morning and managed to get the yard mowed and most of the large back trail when the machine quit moving. The engine ran fine, but refused to do anything more than barely creep forward. I’m fearful the drive belt either slipped off the pulley or broke. Whatever the reason, everyone pitched in and helped me tow it back to the yard where we pushed it into the bed of the pickup truck. I’ll take the mower in to be fixed tomorrow. After downloading the shop manual, I’m convinced I’m better off letting someone who knows what they are doing fix it.

Macrea announced he was taking us all out for dinner last night. We ended up eating in Iron River. Mr. T’s (where Mark and Sheri, Sargie and I, dined Saturday evening) had a lasagna special. We ate until we thought we’d bust, then stopped by McDonalds later for 49 cent ice cream cones. The perfect meal!

Macrea and Sargie

Brutus has been acting like a four-year-old kid who is having his first birthday party. He’s been all over the place, up on the couch, into the driver’s seat of the car when first opened, etc. He’s taken a real fancy to Mel and last night, absolutely refused to leave her alone. He’d bring a toy and drop it into her lap while we were sitting at the table. If she ignored him, he’d shove her with his nose and in general, be a pain.

I think the pup was jealous that he wasn’t the center of attention; so finally, he got all of mine, undivided and whole-hearted. We’re together, just the two of us, during the days, and I sometimes forget he’s a young dog… and just that, a dog. I talk to him like he’s human, he’s well behaved when we're alone, and does almost anything I ask of him. We’re going to have to work on his manners when someone other than Sargie is around. I can be more stubborn than this bulldog of mine and am the alpha male of the Pentoga pack.

We all travel to Milligan’s Mountain today for a family gathering. Sargie purchased flowers to place in the cemetery. The weather’s to be nice, warm, and no doubt, there’ll be lots of talking and laughing around a table heaped with summer-type food.

The kids will head back to Marquette today. The forecast is for warm and wet conditions all week. I hope to start planting garden in earnest, possibly as soon as this evening. The turnips are up and I noticed where the peas are beginning to poke through. With all the raised beds ready, it’s time to sow seed!

My goal for this summer? Rather than plant so many pumpkins, I’m going for a few giants. There are already Atlantic Dill Pumpkin plants growing in the greenhouse that will be placed into the ground later today. My aim is to produce at least one two-hundred pound (hopefully bigger, but I’m starting small) pumpkin. Can I do it? Stay tuned.

And with that, it’s time to take a stroll through the garden, possibly pluck a weed,  and see what else popped up overnight. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Macrea attacking his mother's weakest spot... her funny bone.

Strawberry blossoms

May 26, 2013 – Sunday

41 degrees/sunny/calm

Pentoga Road

Arg, I’m running late this morning, but bed felt so good. I was tired last night and barely remember getting between the sheets. The next thing I knew, it was 6 AM and the alarm was blaring. Why? Sargie doesn’t have to work. I automatically set the clock each night and must have done so last evening. I shut it off this morning, snuggled with Sargie, and dropped back into that wonderful world of dreaming, dozing, conscious, and unconsciousness.

These last two days have been a whirlwind. The biggest news is that I finished this year’s construction phase of the garden. The last raised bed was constructed out of railroad ties that I hauled in with the frontend loader, but not until I discovered the old battery on the tractor had finally died causing me to purchase a new one.

The tractor has a six-volt system. When I went to purchase the new battery, the price was as much as I normally pay for a twelve-volt unit. I told the salesman that it ought to be half price, that I was only buying six-volts, not the full twelve. He looked at me like I was crazy. Maybe I am, but it makes perfect sense to me. Some people have no math skills. Obviously the salesman possesses neither a sense of humor or the ability to logically add or subtract.

Saturday saw me up early and in the garden. I began the day by hauling 10 wheelbarrow loads of dirt to the new raised bed. After, I drove to Florence, Wisconsin, fifteen miles distant, to purchase some more Siberian tomato plants. The deep freezes (22 degrees on Thursday night) have been really hard on all the bedding plants. Coming home, I swung through Crystal Falls and purchased six treated 2x4’s with which to make a park bench for the garden. The bench utilizes some cement ends that were owned by a distant great aunt of Sargie’s and are quite old. It’s a long story, but in the end, I hope to have a park bench by the greenhouse.

The newest (and last) raised bed complete with the original railroad spikes and plates.

A promise was made to Sargie that all tools and other non-bathroom materials would be removed from the upstairs remodeling job. Multiple trips were made up and down the steps. With arms full, I delivered a hammer here, a bottle of wallpaper remover there, nuts and bolts in another place. Each trip was like a reverse shopping trip where I put items back on a shelve or in a drawer rather than remove them.

The lawn. With company on their way, I wanted the lawn to be shorn and look nice. I was happily buzzing back and forth across the grass when it occurred to me something didn’t look right. A closer inspection found that only one blade was cutting. Looking even further, I discovered that the other blade had dropped off the mower!

To make a long and very frustrating story short, when I changed the blades last week, I evidently didn’t double check to be sure they were tight. One worked loose, stripped the bolt, and eventually fell off. Late yesterday afternoon found me trying hard not to swear at my skinned and bleeding knuckles as I removed the deck and began replacing the spindle that holds the blade. I’ll finish that job first thing this morning. Maybe someday when I grow up, I’ll learn some basic mechanical functions. Let’s see, righty-tighty, lefty-loosey. Yup, that’s it. There’s hope.

The day ended with Sargie and I going out to eat with Mark and Sheri. We had a wonderful meal and even better conversation. The evening concluded with a tour of their new trailer. They hope to start their summer camping excursions soon.

I’m going to attempt to fix the mower and get the yard shorn and beautified before Macrea and Melanie arrive, probably sometime this afternoon. Sargie will, no doubt, find places in the house that need to be cleaned, straightened, or otherwise be made ready for our visitors. I imagine we’ll spend this evening sitting around a fire roasting marshmallows and/or playing Mexican Train Dominos. Either way, there’ll be plenty of laughing and gabbing.

Time to grab another cup of coffee before heading to the shop and getting my delicate hands dirty. A man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

It was breezy and the black plastic mulch wouldn't lay flat. I called to Brutus, who was laying on the other side of the garden fence, and had him stand on one end of the mulch until I could permanently anchor it with wood chips. Big ol' bulldogs will do anything for a treat. We worked together that way for over an hour. 

May 24, 2013 – Friday

23 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

The flowers and plants were covered and in some instances, double-covered yesterday afternoon in an attempt to save them from last night’s freeze. They should have come through just fine… I hope. After having all the plants in the greenhouse freeze solid the week before last when the temperature dipped down to 18 degrees, I took no chances last night. The contents of the greenhouse were loaded onto the four-wheeler and taken to the shelter of the barn.

I felt as though I accomplished a lot yesterday. After seeing Sargie off to work, I began moving woods chips and covering mulch in the garden. Growing tired of that chore, I finished tilling the closest side, breaking sod really, then pried a wheelbarrow full of rocks from the ground, and filled the newly tilled area with topsoil and compost.

My attentions were turned to making two new raised beds. I had just enough old lumber to make two triangles. After laying black mulch, wheelbarrow’s full of topsoil filled each. I ran out of enough dirt to fill the last one, so had to tap into my emergency pile that is kept at the rear of the back yard.

I finished spreading wood chips along the fence line on far side. The garden is almost complete. As I told Sargie last night, one more heavy day of work and I think I’ll finally be able to enjoy the fruits of my labors and do normal gardening chores, planting, weeding, and simply walking up and down the aisles appreciating the annual miracle experienced by most gardeners.

The last chore of the day was to cover the delicate plants already planted and move those in the greenhouse to the barn. Everything should have made it through the night. We used to have a rule of thumb in northern Maine that no delicates would be planted until the second week of June. Of course, me being me… I planted around the middle of May and played this game of freeze tag yearly. It took years, but in the end, I finally figured out the process how to harvest vine ripened red tomatoes before summer’s end. For anyone interested, I still use the same type of tomato, Siberian, and it works well here in the North Woods. Longer varieties like Rutgers and Big Boy simply require too long of a growing season this far north.

Having to close, Sargie didn’t make it home until late last night. She’s in early today and has a hair appointment after work. The optician in my life works early on Saturday and will be off on Sunday and Monday, a rare two days in a row.

I’m going to work in the upstairs bathroom first thing this morning while it’s still cold outside. As soon as Sargie leaves for work, I want to begin the final phases of finishing the garden. Hopefully, all the construction will be in my rearview mirror when I write Saturday morning.

My first quiz was posted earlier this morning. Teaching in the summer is a different experience. I have only fourteen in class and all are adults. Many are already teaching and taking the class for permanent certification as required by law in Alaska. Each seems to know how to read, write, and use spell check on his computer. It’s a welcome respite before heading into next fall’s herd of first year teacher education students, many of whom forget they are no longer in high school. Oh well, that’s our job as educators… to teach each and every one. Not surprisingly, many will emerge four years from now as certified teachers, prepared to step into their own classrooms.

Time to grab another cup of coffee before the day’s labor begins. A man’s work is never done.

A full moon accompanied a very still, cold, and clear night 

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

I wish I could lay like that...