Monday's walk began in the sunshine but ended with heavy snow squalls

November 27, 2013 – Tuesday

9 degrees/clear/breezy

Pentoga Road

Hey little Lukey, Happy Birthday!! My second son continues his climb towards old age today. A fire fighter/ EMT, trapper, outdoorsman, and do’er of good deeds, Luke will no doubt be working. Seems the fire department isn’t very sensitive when it comes to celebrating one’s special day.

Hard to believe this is the same person who used to crawl up on my belly in the middle of the night, lay face down, his nose touching mine, drool onto my face as his leaky diapers dribbled down my belly and onto the sheets.

He always was and is a daddy’s boy. No matter where I went, he followed. Before his school days, I don’t believe I had more than five minutes in any given day that he wasn’t trying to follow me, in the truck or field with me, or otherwise somewhere close by.

Though I thought that was a real pain in my immature and young parenting years, I look back at it now and think what a joy it was and how I’d like to have that opportunity to do it all over again… although Luke now weighs close to 250 lbs. I don’t believe I’d want him nose to nose, drooling onto my face or experiencing his leaky diapers in the middle of the night.

Happy Birthday, Son. I love you.

Page Two

I can’t believe we’ve gone this long without the furnace kicking on this year. That being said, it sure is nippy in the house this morning… well, actually, it’s not that bad, fifty degrees. The wood stove is full and crackling and the house will soon be warm again. There’s a portable heater in the bathroom that I turn on before waking Sargie so she has a warm haven in which to shower and get ready for work. By the time she’s finished, the house is usually warm.

Sargie gets a bit upset with me as I tend to fill the woodbox full to overflowing. She has a point. She doesn't care for the fact that I store Brutus's ball thrower wedged between the top and the wall. It's just so... convenient.

Walking Tuesday morning reminded me of my Alaska travel days, those times I’d take off across the arctic circle on snowmobile when often, I encountered ground storms. These aren’t nearly as severe or long lasting, but yesterday’s squalls reduced visibility and brought everything to a slow crawl. I don’t worry about myself as I’m unable see very far anyway, but rather it’s the oncoming traffic, usually the four or five vehicles in the five miles, that I meet on my way back home. One car came close to mowing me down yesterday. Thankfully, I’d stepped into a ditch, far off the road, out of harm’s way.

The rest of the day was spent grading papers. As of last night, I am completely caught up. No doubt, there’ll be a dozen more or so that came in during the night.

Brutus and I spent a couple of hours outside, mostly playing fetch and tug of war. For a big dog, he has plenty of energy and if it’s not released in one form or the other, he drives me crazy during the evening hours. The pup will pace, wage a mock war with an invisible dog while chewing a bone, or worse, wait until I cross one leg over the other, then walk under and flip it up into the air with his Volkswagen-size head hoping I’ll react.  It’s his excuse to entice me down to the floor for a wrestling match, one I’ve yet to win. When I tell him to settle down, he’ll sit on my feet and not allow me to get up then flop his head on my lap and stare directly at me… and stare… and stare… then stare some more until I pet him or scratch behind his ears.

But an hour of exercise during the day dictates my puppy is entirely too tired to do any of the above during the evening hours. If given plenty of activity during the day, he prefers to sleep on the hearth, next to the wood stove. I prefer he sleep there too.

He’s been trained to be my constant companion, but sometimes a guy needs a bit of breathing room.

Sargie was home late last night, but still made it in time to watch the last of Dancing With the Stars. No doubt, we’ll go into withdrawal now that the season is over.

Today I’m making cranberry sauce to share at the Milligan family Thanksgiving meal; the good old-fashioned, pop in your mouth, kind. None of that sissy, Jello, stuff for me. I’m also making more sweet rolls to take tomorrow, plus I get to peel and cut a million rutabagas to be boiled and mashed.

I hope Sargie and I can leave fairly early for Iron Mountain tomorrow so I can stake out a good seat for the Packers game. Part of the Milligan Clan is Lions fans, but the rest cheer for the Packers. It will be a fun and spirited afternoon of cheering, booing, eating, laughing, and loving. The older I get, the more I love and appreciate it all. I’ve got a lot to be thankful for.

Sargie works early today, but thankfully, is off Thanksgiving and the day after. I think she’s planning on doing her Black Friday Christmas shopping on line. I may do the same. It’s certain you won’t find me in any store this Friday. There’s a chance you could spot me on the local lake ice fishing though!

Speaking of that, I still have to get my ice fishing stuff ready for the upcoming season of putting meat on the table. Such responsibilities and stress; but then, I’m not surprised.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…