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.