July 3, 2013

I caught several undersized bass while fishing Tuesday evening. 

July 3, 2013 – Wednesday

46 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

I took a day’s vacation from writing Tuesday morning. I don’t know, unlike when I lived and traveled the length and breadth of Alaska, caught giant fish, hunted giant animals, and climbed giant mountains, life in retirement poses a challenge in the writing department.

There’re only so many ways one can describe pulling weeds or arranging the contents of a barn. Even catching average-sized bluegills pose a description dilemma.

Two panfish caught Tuesday evening

 Writing a daily log serves as a diary. They say once one gets to a certain age, he begins to think more of days gone by rather than making plans for the future. I’ve started a process where once or twice a week, I look back to see what I was doing X amount of years ago on this date. After reading the entry and looking at the pictures, I often close my eyes while thinking of those events and drift off to sleep. It’s become a precursor to the occasional afternoon nap.

Some people do crossword puzzles; others play Solitaire. I write. It’s a passion I’ve had for over thirty years; a hobby that fills the dark, early-morning hours when normal people are still sound asleep. It keeps me between the lines, reminds me of where I’ve been and where I want to go.

I awakened Monday morning to the realization that my knee seemed to be much looser and for the majority of the day, my limp was noticeably less. Honestly, it was the first time in six weeks that it wasn’t painful to walk. I also noticed my attitude changing. I was happier than I’d been in a long time, had more energy than normal, began thinking of a sensible workout schedule, and was almost gleeful. It had been exactly a week, almost to the hour, since the surgery.

The good news was confirmed on Tuesday. My leg is healing on schedule, nature’s, NOT mine. The doctor pointed to several x-rays confirming that indeed, there is no fraying on the end of my fibula or tibia. The picture confirms they are in good shape. Even the remaining cartilage seems healthy and strong.

Those pictures are of my knee. I'll let you do the interpretation. Personally, I think they look like a full moon that is cracking apart. I know the dark band in the middle is the cartilage separating the fibula from the tibia.

 I asked why the knee has been so stiff and sore. The doctor took his time explaining even though “scoping” is considered more non-evasive than surgery, that during the procedure, (and I’ll use his exact words) “We sometimes have to really crank on the joint to get to the area that needs work.” 

He continued, saying that the affects of the procedure can be compared to a bad sprain, the muscles and ligaments were all stretched and bent in ways that aren’t natural.

So, I’ve been given the go-ahead to resume long distance hiking as soon as all the pain and stiffness is gone, but there is to be, absolutely, no long-term jumping or running. I learned my lesson. Walking it will be. I hope to begin in the next week or two.

I worked in the garden for over two hours on Tuesday. We dodged a potential bullet Monday night when the temperature dipped to 36 degrees. Records were set all over the UP and northern Wisconsin. Thankfully, we stayed on the warm side of the frost line. The giant pumpkins are setting female fruit. As soon as a male flower appears, I’ll fertilize the female flowers by hand and after the best baby pumpkin is selected, I’ll pluck off all others and concentrate on growing one giant pumpkin per plant.

There’s a banana pepper that’s almost ready to harvest, our first real vegetable of the summer. The first batch of beets will be ready to pull this coming week. I see there are some small green tomatoes and the eggplants will set fruit in the next few days.

I turned my attentions to the garage and barn. It was quite a chore removing a large counter/bench by myself from the garage, but utilized the frontend loader to do all the lifting and carrying. I don’t know what I’d do without the little Ford 8N. I’ve mentioned before, after researching the serial number, I discovered it was manufactured the exact month and year that I was born. We’re the same age, almost to the day.

The barn should be finished in the next few days with the shop being built inside this fall. I took the opportunity to snap a chalk line on Tuesday so I could see just how big the area will be. I’m looking forward to spending some time in it this winter playing, listening to music, and no doubt, enjoying a grandpa snooze every now and then.

After inhaling a venison burger, leftovers from Monday night’s supper, I loaded the Man Yacht and took off for our local lake. 

The secret to good venison burgers? Add in ground pork at the time of processing. 

Dummy me, I forgot this is a holiday week. Every tourist in the world seems to be visiting the area and the lake, normally empty during the week, was teaming with activity. There were several boatloads of fishermen, swimmers at the summer camp, a water skier, and people fishing from the dock. Still, I was entertained by catching undersized bass and landed a few nice bluegills.

Sargie wasn’t home until 9:30 last night. She had to close the Vision Center and will open it this morning. Thankfully, she doesn’t have to work on the Fourth.

I’m going to pick strawberries first thing this morning and make jam later in the day. Sargie enjoys a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on most days for her noon meal so the jam is disappearing. We’re presently finishing up a jar from last summer’s tomato preserves.

I want to work in the barn and there’s a place in the garden that needs attention. The back trails need mowing before week’s end. It’s busy around here these days because as you well know, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

The new shop will be on the other side of the long counter. Hopefully, the walls and ceiling will be built this fall.