December 13, 2013 – Friday

5 degrees/cloudy/calm

Pentoga Road

A big Happy Birthday goes out to Sargie today. The other half of my life turns twenty-nine… no really, I mean it, she really turns twenty-nine today and of that, I wouldn’t lie. We were thinking of jetting down to Florida for a day of sunshine, to work on our finely ripped bodies and well defined tan lines by lying in the sun on the sugar sand beaches with occasional dips in the warm water, but instead, she decided we ought to go to Green Bay to finish our Christmas shopping. Oh well, maybe next week.

Happy birthday, sweetheart. I love you.

Friday was another chilly day in the North Country. I’m not sure we saw ten degrees; I don’t think so.

I started the day by going into town and purchasing frosting for Sargie’s birthday cake. I also saw Sheri at the drug store and we managed a few minutes of playing catch-up on the news. It was good to see my good friend.

I couldn’t find one of our nine-inch round cake pans. Regular cakes, concocted for no particular reason, are fine when baked in a rectangular cake pan, but birthday cakes ought to be double layer, if not more. I had only one pan, which meant I could only bake one layer at a time. In the end, it took twice as long, but all came out.

I worked around the house the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon… carrying in wood, scraping some snow, and trying to get a bit of fresh air.

The wind died down. Fishing? Sure! Why not?

I donned my heavies and chugged down the road and out onto the lake. It didn’t take long for me to find a large pocket of slush under the few inches of snow. Thankfully, I was driving the new four-wheeler with more aggressive tread on the tires and four-wheel drive. Had I been on the little blue ATV, the machine would still be sitting on the lake.

If the slush is this bad now, what will it be in another month or two when we really receive some significant snow? Like the summer, this winter and it’s related activities are beginning to show signs of being difficult. The fishing was lousy, nonexistent in my case, there was water on the ice, and once I arrived on the lake, the wind began to blow. Mother Nature is being difficult this year.

I could see fish activity on the sonar, but they didn’t want to bite. After two hours, I packed up and came home. That’s the glory of living near the lake. It’s not a big deal to come or go.

After no small amount of deliberation, I ordered a trimmer/mower from DR Power Tools yesterday afternoon. It was the last day of their winter sale. I saved $250 from the regular season price plus I purchased the machine with financing that stretches over thirty-six months with zero percent interest. Usually, I pay those things off early and probably will the trimmer/mower, but at $30 a month, I figured I could afford to buy the thing. I purchased the chipper/shredder four years ago under the same type of agreement.

The mower, powered by an 8 hp Subaru engine, has a very strong cord that flails and will cut brambles and tall weeds in a twenty-two inch swath. I hope to use it to cut trails through the woods. There are so many rocks that many places are impossible to mow, even with the brush hog. There’s also a significant thistle problem in several places that I’m hoping to get rid of. Hopefully, I can break the cycle of those pesky weeds.

 I’m to get the mower this next week. I have no idea where I’ll store it this winter, but probably will keep the mower inside the crate and  wrap that in a tarp to stay outside on a pallet until next spring.

Sargie had to close the Vision Center last night. It was almost 9:30 before she arrived home and we were able to cut the cake and open her presents. It was a fun, but abbreviated evening.

We’ll be on our way to Green Bay shortly. Birthday Girl has a list and I know we’ll be going to several stores and the mall. Hey, I don’t care. She’s doing the driving and I’m just along for the ride. It should be a very fun day.

But first, while she’s getting ready, I’m going to have another cup of coffee and listen to the news.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…