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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