Asparagus spears

May 11, 2013 – Saturday

34 degrees/snow/calm

Pentoga Road

God must be having fun pitching snowballs our way this morning. The flakes are so big that one could almost run between each to keep from getting hit.

So what gives with this return of winter? Twelve hours ago, I was dressed in a t-shirt working in the orchard; the same one that currently, is almost covered in snow.

In looking at next week’s forecast, I see there’s a high of 80 predicted for Thursday. Strange. I’ll have to call Al Gore and get his take on what’s going on. Al knows everything about the weather.

I resumed my five-mile regiment of walking early Friday morning. Though the left knee is still a bit stiff and achy, it’s much better. I know Brutus was happy to get rid of some excess energy too.

I planted more garden goodies in the greenhouse and hopefully, will have a head start with winter squash and bush cucumbers. I also planted cauliflower, brocolli, and Brussels sprouts. I’m a bit late, but all three can tolerate an early frost as it will do nothing but sweeten the Cole crops if it happens.

Two black raspberry bushes were transplanted to an area back along the trail. They were rapidly taking over their end of the orchard and I tired of having my arms or legs grabbed and scratched each time I walked by. Now they can grow, multiply, and go forth and be fruitful (no pun intended) all they want without doing any harm.

Just on the other side of the garden fence, Brutus, is seldom more than a few feet away

I had to laugh at Brutus. In an uncharacteristic manner, he disappeared while I was working. This is a pup who is trained not to leave my side. I called and called, whistled, and growing worried, finally got on the four-wheeler to mount a puppy search and rescue.

I found the big boy, in the back, splashing through a huge puddle, chasing ducks and having a great time. He’d run and splash, then finding that the ducks had eluded him, would flop on his belly and slide about ten feet through the water and mud. He’d lay dead still for a few seconds, then begin the process all over again.

Failing to grab a duck, he contented himself with catching a stick

Brutus went under the hose soon after and was tied for a couple of hours while his coat dried. He’s something, that dog of mine. I’m not an oogee booboo-type of person, especially for pets, but Lord, this pup makes me laugh. I’ve never seen such a laid back, mellow, hilarious, yet extremely caring, personality in a canine.

Sargie proclaims to not be a dog lover, but I notice she continually brings home treats and toys for the newest member of our family and last night, Brutus had her laughing so hard that tears were forming in her eyes.

More time was spent weeding the existing raised beds and securing the wooden sides for another year of planting. The weeds weren’t too bad and it was pleasant sitting on the sides in the warm sun, plucking unwanted plants, to make room for this year’s vegetable crop.

I went to town and stopped to see Yooper Brother Mark at the plant. I felt sorry for the poor guy. He’d hoped to sneak out early, but received a last minute phone call from an over the road trucker who was in the area and ready to be loaded. Poor Mark had to wait for him to arrive then load palates of animal bedding with the forklift.

We had an hour before Sargie was due to arrive home. Brutus and I walked the mile-and-a-half to the local lake and played fetch and water dog for a few minutes. He has a love affair going with his tennis ball, especially when it’s thrown into deep water and needs saving, but I have to snatch it from his mouth fairly quickly or he’ll have it chewed to shreds.

Sargie was home early and we agreed Kentucky Fried Chicken sounded good. It was almost with a child’s glee that we drove into town and ordered a huge bucket of chicken, mashed taters, brown gravy, biscuits, and coleslaw. Coming home, we laughed as we both ate a hot biscuit coated with butter. I don’t care how old we are, there’s something about food sneaked from a bag on the way home that makes it taste better.

Last night was spent eating chicken and watching television. We were in bed shortly after 9 and though I woke at 4 AM, stayed in bed until almost 7. My motivation for getting up was almost nil after hearing the rain and snow hit the metal roof.

Sargie closes today, so it will be a long one for my most favorite optician in the world. She’s off Sunday and Monday. I think we’ll go to Green Bay Sunday so I can get more black mulch and finish the garden area this next week. Shea’s daughter, Kylie, has a dance recital in Oconto, Wisconsin, Sunday afternoon that we’ll try to attend on our way home. It appears Mother’s Day is going to be a busy one.

I’m going to attempt to get the trim and basically, the upstairs bathroom, finished today. I know Sargie wants to do a bit more touch up painting before we move everything back, but it’s almost done. I’m anxious to look at that project in my rearview mirror. It’s definitely tested my flooring, carpentry, plumbing, caulking, and painting skills; none of which I possess any talent. Still, if it passes Sargie’s keen eye, I’m happy with it.

I’d better get moving. It’s on the other side of 8 AM and as we all know, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

Pentoga Lake is slowly giving way to the trail going to the back of property