Saturday, July 27, 2013

A wood fire, fire wood, and a late July monsoon... all on Pentoga Road


On this cold, damp, morning, Mom has a good book, a hot cup of coffee, and is snuggled up to the wood stove. She also has her own personal foot warmer and body guard. As I said a few days ago, ain't nobody gonna' mess with Grandma.
July 27, 2013 – Saturday morning
48 degrees/cloudy/damp/windy
Pentoga Road

Over two inches of rain, mixed with thunderstorms, wind, and hail fell yesterday. At first, I was fearful for the plants in the garden, but in the end, it appears only the flowers suffered. They’ll recover.


We certainly needed the moisture. Areas to the north and east received significantly more precipitation; one community registered over six inches of rain. I’m glad we didn’t receive that much. As it is, the ground water has surfaced on the trail going to the back of the property. Six inches would have brought Lake Pentoga back to life.


It’s chilly and damp in the house this morning and for the first time in my tenure at Pentoga Road, I’ve got a fire going in the wood stove in the month of July.

Mom has thin blood. After a heart attack and a couple of procedures last year, she gets cold easily. I dug deep into the scrap wood box in the shop and brought in some wood that never made it to the project stage. We’ll see if we can’t get Mom cozy warm this morning.

After Mom and I arrived back home from riding with Sargie to work Friday morning, I immediately changed clothes and attended the internment of the remains of Yooper Brother Mark’s parents. His mom passed away a few years ago, Grandpa, this past year. The rain pelted down and the thunder crashed as we said our goodbyes.

We enjoyed Mom's specialty for lunch on Friday, peanut butter and dill pickle sandwiches. They were a staple when I was growing up.

The Man Truck’s windshield wipers quit several years ago so driving in dry weather is a necessity. Nature presented us with just that opportunity between rain showers Friday afternoon. Mom and I went to town in the Blazer and she followed me as I drove the truck home filled with firewood from the plant.


I enjoy splitting wood, working it into burnable chunks to keep us warm in the winter months. About a third of the load was completed Friday afternoon and the rest should be finished this weekend. I’ll take the truck back into the plant early this next week for another load. It’s that time of year.


Mom helped. She carried wood to the shed or handed it to me to stack. Mom claims she’s getting older and can’t do what she used to, but I think she’s got the rest of the world fooled. The girl is a wood-workin’ machine.


The rain returned and we retired inside for the day. Sargie was home early and the three of us enjoyed a meal of super nachos in front of the television. There was a lot of talking and laughing and the evening was too short.

Sargie works late today. It’s going to be a long one for her. With a forecast high in the fifties, I imagine Mom will sit by the wood stove and read. I’ll do what I do… whatever that is, because as you know, a man’s work is never done.


So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

That's hail mixed in with yesterday's heavy rain.

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