A long lost relative? Where'd the lake go? A clean rug, a retirement check, and a TRUE Packer fan.

Its summer in the UP!

July 14, 2013 – Sunday

63 degrees/sunny/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

It seems strange to sit here and not hear the constant ticking of our wind-up clocks. For whatever reason, the one mantel clock Dad made and the other, a wall clock, both quit working on the same day. We miss their gentle chiming. I’ve found several places via the internet that do clock repair. The large grandfather’s clock that was Grandma and Grandpa Pennington’s continues to mark time perfectly.

I was sitting in the barn, carving, early Saturday morning when a butterfly landed on my work directly in front of me. It was beautiful and I've hung out with various Native tribes enough years to wonder which long, lost, relative or friend was paying me a visit.

Saturday was spent taking out a large area rug, scrubbing it, and cleaning all the nooks and crannies in the living room. We carried the rug out to the back patio after which Sargie spent no small amount of time cleaning it with the carpet scrubber. While she ran the machine, I swept and steamed the living room floor. The weather was hot and dry and it took only a couple of hours for the rug to dry.

We headed toward the dam on the Paint River in Crystal Falls for our afternoon drive. The city has drained the lake from behind the hydroelectric dam to make repairs and needless to say, it looks very different. 

We took pictures, did a bit of exploring, but mostly just gawked at the place where a small river has replaced a lake.

One of the neatest observations of the day was of an old wheel, I'm thinking from an early automobile or truck, that once had wooden spokes. Someone had obviously dragged it out from the lakebed. 

Another find was the cross and hands raised, not imbedded, in concrete at the very bottom of the boat ramp. I’m not sure when the structure was built, but it was pretty neat. The artwork had to take some time.

I took the opportunity to take plenty of pictures so that when the lake is once again full, I can find the deep holes while fishing. In fact, I’ve thought about walking down the river a mile or two to imprint the bottom to memory.

This man was fishing and pulled in a fairly good sized fish from the hole in front of him while we were watching.

Sargie was cleaning the top of the refrigerator last night when she came across a check made out to me from the State of Alaska dated last September for two months of retirement pay. I was shocked. How could I forget so much money? It’s not exactly like my retirement income is so large that it would be considered disposable or mere pocket money. Though gleeful, I began to worry I seriously might be in the beginning throes of some sort of dementia; so much so that I felt sick. I thought I’d been paid, but evidently not. How did I get by? How were the bills paid? I took my worries to bed with me.

I shouldn’t have.

It was at four this morning, while in the beginning stages of consciousness, that my mind processed the entire check drama and I remembered that it was part of the prorated, beginning, retirement pay from last summer and had been sent to the wrong address and failed to arrive in a timely manner. I’d called the Teacher Retirement Division in Alaska and they issued another check and said to tear this one up should it arrive. It did, a month late, and somehow found its way onto the top of the refrigerator where it remained for the past year. My retirement is deposited directly into my bank account, but the first one, for some reason, had to come by check. I never thought I’d enjoy ripping a check in two as much as I will this one.

Sargie putting Brutus through his nightly paces. He has to shake (first one paw, then the other), lay down, and speak, for a treat.

Sargie works from noon until five today and will enjoy supper with her dad at the VA after. It’s to be hot, so anything physically demanding will be done this morning. I need to spray the peppers for aphids. I see the leaves are curled and bunched in places and the plants look rather sickly. This year continues to be a real challenge in the gardening department.

I should spray Round Up on some weeds around the perimeter of the garden before the wind begins to blow. With all the rain we’ve received, the weeds are beginning to make a claim to areas where they don't belong. Parts of the contents of the barn are still in boxes that need to be emptied and there’s the carving project to be worked on.

The work never ceases. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

We were driving through the cemetery in Crystal Falls to visit the grave of one of Sargie's cousins when I spotted this tombstone. Now this guy was a REAL Packers fan. I told Sargie I'd like the same when it's my time. All I got in return was a dirty look.