September 1, 2013 – Sunday

64 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

It’s another very early morning. I’m not sure why my mind insists on waking around 3 AM and then spends the next hour convincing my body to do the same.  I finally abandoned any hope of getting back to sleep around 4 this morning, gave Sargie a good morning peck and one last snuggle, then put both feet on the floor.

And it’s not like I spend the days on the couch or in front of the television set. Sunday was a busy one on Pentoga Road. I started the morning by working in the garden. With this past week’s rain, I was able to pick enough cucumbers with which to make another batch of bread and butter pickles. Washing, slicing, and packing, is on the top of this morning’s “to do” list.

When she wasn't helping me, Sargie had a few projects of her own on Saturday. Here, she's sanding, staining, and varnishing a holder on which to put spare rolls of toilet paper. 

As predicted, the tomatoes are setting on all at once. I picked three ice cream pails’ full plus two large zucchini squash. We later dropped those off at Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri’s. Better late than never. It makes me feel good that I can trade all their help for a few vegetables. Of course, they’re the best of friends, no trading is necessary, but it helps to soothe my Man Pride.

Cleaning the flue… what can be said about a messy job that is so dirty, dusty, and disgusting? Give me a fish to clean, an animal to gut. No problem. But scrubbing the inside of a chimney ranks right up there with painting on my Things I Hate to Do list.

Sargie lessened the mess by tightly attaching a large garbage bag onto the end of the stove pipe allowing all the suet, dirt, and dust to fall directly into that rather than spread across the floor and room.

The flue was dirty, but certainly not clogged. I learned last year after burning mostly softwood that it will need to be scrubbed midway through the winter. Thankfully, the flue is only eight feet long and the roof isn’t steep.

With the flue clean, it was time to tackle the wood stove.  The intake hose on the huge commercial shop vac is long enough that I could set the vacuum out on the deck and still suck any contents of the stove sitting inside. After cleaning the interior, I inspected the firebrick, several of which will be replaced. Sargie and I finally got the stove set back into place and the flue firmly inserted. We’re just about ready for a safe heating season.

Neighbor Mike and I had planned on moving some barn poles further back onto his property. Armed with a jar of homemade bread and butter pickles, their favorite, I took off on the four-wheeler to assess the job. Mike and his wife, Germaine, weren’t home, so I went on down the hill into the woods, one of my favorite trapping places, completely missed the culvert going across a creek, drove off the side, and managed to get the large four-wheeler stuck and threatening to tip onto its side. As many times as I’ve been across that culvert, I really thought I could navigate the area with my eyes closed. Obviously, I’m going to have to open them before I attempt to cross the next time.

Where was Brutus when I needed his muscle power? (He’s not allowed to cross the road unless I’m on foot.) There was nothing to do but wait for Mike to get home. I walked out of the woods and home.

Sargie and I made our usual weekly trip to town. I purchased a box of firebricks at the local hardware and the ingredients for more bread and butter pickles. We stopped at Insurance Liquidators to see what new goodies had arrived since last week and where Sargie found a bargain or two.

I'm installing new batteries in the trail cam

Returning home, Mike and I freed the four-wheeler. He and Germaine wanted to enjoy the late afternoon by going canoeing and we agreed to move the barn poles on Sunday. Since I had the trim finished for the hearth and Sargie had it stained, Mike said he would permanently attach the trim and even had plugs for the holes. The boy claimed it would take about five minutes. It took less than ten.

I offered the kayaks and truck in which to haul them if he and Germaine wanted to go kayaking rather than take a canoe. They did. It seemed odd… watching someone else drive down the road at the helm of the Man Truck. They returned a couple of hours later claiming the paddling experience was a complete and enjoyable success. The four of us ended up talking and laughing a goodly part of last evening. It was fun to have company.

Sargie works from noon to five today. The Mighty Milligans are having a Labor Day gathering on Milligan Mountain, but I think I’ll stay home and work on the several ongoing projects. I spent the majority of the summer sitting on my backside waiting for the knee to heal. Now that it’s willing and able, there’s hardly enough time to accomplish everything before the first snow falls. I’m also signed, sealed, and certified, to substitute teach and public school begins the day after tomorrow, along with both the university classes I’m teaching. It’s going to be a busy fall, but then I’m not surprised.

Sitting behind my own personal Yooper native guide on the four wheeler, Sargie's pointing out a dead tree that can be used for future firewood. 

I don’t know if anyone’s ever mentioned this, but a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…