December 8, 2013 – Sunday morning

-14 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

I was taking stock of the woodpile this past week and noted that it was almost New Years last year before I’d burned the same amount as I’ve already used during this current heating season. Thankfully, I have plenty of wood stored in addition to an emergency supply tucked under a tarp. I don’t think this global warming thing is working, at least in the upper Midwest. Al is going to have to come up with a new scheme to pry money from people’s pockets.

This past week has been one of sadness and joy. The sorrow of losing the patriarch of a large family is, at best, sad, but the joy of remembering his life as told by the hundreds of friends and family is a cause for just celebration.

No doubt, had Mr. Milligan been present at his own funeral and privy to the talk and stories that centered round his life, he’d have waved it all off and been somewhat embarrassed. We heard tales ranging from heroic actions during World War II to his deer hunting escapades in more modern times, when actually shooting meat for the table wasn’t nearly as important as the accompanying thermoses of coffee, hot soup, and handfuls of cookies. All were enjoyed in the woods while he waited for his quarry to walk into the sights of a waiting rifle.

A grandson, Derek, gave a fitting eulogy and later, his casket was carried out of the church by his grandsons while a bagpiper played Amazing Grace. It was a hero’s funeral, but more importantly, it was a celebration honoring and remembering a great man who was dearly loved as a father and a true friend to all.

Page Two

Honestly, this past week has been a blur. When not involved with family obligations, Sargie found time to decorate the house for the Christmas season. As usual, she has it looking beautiful.

Sargie had just unpacked the moving Santa when Brutus saw him. Unsure what to do, the bulldog decided he was going to protect us from the jolly old elf. Brutus and Santa have since made up and it looks to be a go for Santa's arrival on Christmas Eve. 

I took the opportunity to smoke more meat in preparation for holidays. A pork roast, venison back strap, two loin chops, and a roast of beef were all injected with honey and melted butter, then placed into the smoker. 

Sargie and I tried a small piece of each. Mmmm. We’ll slice much of it to eat with crackers and cheese, or warm some for a meal. Either way, none will go to waste.

The secret? Inject it all with honey and melted butter then cover it with the fattest bacon available. As Sargie says, butter and bacon makes everything taste better!

We received some significant snow followed by freezing rain at the first part of the week. I was so happy to have a paved drive and have it completely cleaned of snow… until the freezing rain and wind arrived. We awakened on Wednesday morning to find our drive had become a skating rink coated with half an inch of glass-smooth black ice.

I attempted to spread course salt, but the wind blew it to one side before it could work. I’ve since resorted to the old fashioned method of traction… that of using ashes from the wood stove. It’s not pretty, but is effective and after Friday’s fall on my backside, I don’t care what it looks like.

Taken just before the freezing rain began

With the end of the semester, I’ve been grading and reading papers for several hours a day. I’m more than halfway finished, but as usual, there are those students who are slow and no doubt, it will be the last minute of the last day before everyone’s required work is complete and submitted.

Macrea and Mel have been with us the past couple of days. Mel has to work in Marquette, two hours distant, at 11 this morning so they’ll be departing fairly early.

I fried the last of the bluegills and crappies for supper Friday night

... and baked two loaves of bread

No doubt, there’s plenty of ice on the lakes and I’ve still not gotten all my fishing equipment ready for another season of jigging through a hole in the ice. Along with grading papers, coaching the floundering Packers, and taking a nap, putting new line on my ice fishing reel is today’s main project. I hope to be catching giant bluegills, crappies, and northern tomorrow.

The ice auger has been fueled and started, the ice fishing Clam (tent) is packed onto the four wheeler. 

We’ve mourned, we’ve celebrated, we’ve come together as family and friends and just like that, we’re faced with the prospect of life becoming normal once again. Sargie returns to work on Monday and I’ll do whatever it is I do. It’s called living life on life’s terms and that’s as it should be.

But before I get too carried away, it’s time to get another cup of coffee, listen to the early morning news, and think deep thoughts. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…