A beaver pond Brutus and I passed on our walk Monday morning

August 13, 2013 – Tuesday

38 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

My left knee feels good this morning. Brutus and I hiked five miles yesterday, somewhat slower than usual. (But only by a few minutes; averaging 3.3 mph according to the app on my iPhone). What’s even better is that after a few minutes rest, I did a full day of activities without any negative consequences. I believe there’s going to be life after knee surgery.

I attacked a pile of garbage that was left behind the large brown woodshed by the previous owners. I liked the folks very much, but they seemed to have practiced the “out of sight/out of mind” method of disposing of their trash during their eighteen years of ownership. If there was a building, a hollow, a rock pile, or any other obstruction that might block one’s view, he could bet there was a pile of trash behind it.

I sorted plastic into one pile to go to the dump, metal to take to the recycling center, and wood to burn. After, I raked the area, then spent another hour hauling and stacking the chunks of maple that Sargie and I cut up last week. They will be covered with a tarp and allowed to dry for fuel in the wood stove next year.

The beginning of a new stack of fire wood for next year. I wish someone would come along to carry and stack the rest that's still in the woods.

There was one last pile of trash that I’ve been wanting to dispose of for the past several years. It was big and contained mostly wood mixed with metal. In the woods directly behind the new wood shed, I’ve had to look at it every time I walked the trail to collect maple sap for the past several years. I’ve cussed each time.

Monday was cool and breezy. I attacked the pile with a vengeance.

It took over seven hours to clean that mess. The wood was so rotten that many pieces simply crumbled and I was forced to use a shovel and scoop it into the small utility wagon. I made use of the tractor as much as possible, but in the end, it took an old fashioned garden rake, a shovel, and no small amount of muscle to clean the area. It was almost six last night when I finished.

At one point, I lifted a board and saw a large bull snake coiled underneath. Brutus was nearby and after whisling to gain his attention, I witnessed the pup trot up to the pile, look at the snake, and without fanfare, crunch the thing almost in two. Brutus then turned around and with the snake flopping from his jaws, trotted into the woods.  I have no idea where he took it and as Yooper Brother Mark said, he might have a pile of them out there somewhere. Knowing the bulldog, it’s hard telling.

Mark did stop out last night for a visit. We had a good talk and it was wonderful to see my friend. One of the things we discussed was a future kayaking trip down the Mighty Brule. With my knee as it was, neither of us has floated the river this summer. I usually average five to ten trips during the warm season.

Sargie was home just before dark last night. She said they’d been very busy all day. We enjoyed chicken-rice-mushroom soup for supper and called it a day.

I think I’ll work in the barn today. Several hours of no-nonsense labor would see most the boxes and tools arranged in some semblance of order. Of course, I hope to build the shop in this fall, so everything will once again be in disarray.

I have to build a doghouse for Brutus. I wish I could find a set of plans I like. The ones I’ve seen are either a glorified box or look as though they should be for a dollhouse. I’ll probably end up building an old fashioned, conventional-looking, home for our pup. As long as it’s warm and dry, I guess it doesn’t really matter.

Sargie’s off today, her last this week until next Sunday. If it warms up, we’ll probably take a four-wheeler ride. I think I’ll cut a pork loin and put a couple of steaks on the grill for tonight’s supper. Along with fresh broccoli, cucumbers, and turnips, it ought to be a summertime feast.

But first, it’s time to listen to the news and sip coffee. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

The pumpkin is still growing. It needs to be at least twice this size to achieve "giant" status. I'm not optimistic that the frost-free, growing season will last that long.