The Milligan Sisters
Sargie, Nancy, Jeanne, Holly

January 11, 2014 – Saturday morning

26 degrees/snow flurries/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Another four inches of snow fell while I slept last night

Seems awfully quiet around here now that Sargie’s away on her Milligan Sister Girl’s Getaway. Strange, I go through all the motions as if she’s here. I still make the bed, wash the dishes after eating, run the vacuum over the floors each afternoon, and take the dirty laundry down the basement. Old habits die hard, but honestly, there are none in the domestic department I want to change. For sure I already miss her.

Thursday morning dawned the coldest I’ve seen this winter… minus 38 degrees; thirty-eight below zero. With Sargie off to work, I opted to spend the morning inside working on my classes.

It eventually sank two more degrees, down to -38

Neighbor Mike called, asking if I might give him a hand in assembling a railing he built from native wood to go around the balcony in his camp. Mike’s not only a good carpenter, he’s also a craftsman. All the wood used in the railing is from his land. He cut and hewed each piece by hand and in the end, it’s absolutely beautiful.

Looking down from the balcony onto the living room. The beams are from an old dairy barn that was torn down on the property.

Page Two

Sargie whisked us away to Iron Mountain early Friday morning. Though she acted as though rising at 5 AM was a huge sacrifice, I noticed the girl was all smiles and giggles while preparing to leave. For the first time, ever, we were in the car fifteen minutes early, well before sunrise, driving to Holly’s in Iron Mountain.

I made popcorn, a large bag full, to send with the sisters. Each kernel was sinfully popped in butter and sprinkled with salt.

I wonder where they're going to put any goodies bought while shopping over the next few days? I suggested the first thing they purchase is a car top carrier.

After seeing the sisters off, I stopped by Walmart and purchased a new dryer vent hose.  We’ve noticed our aging dryer has been less efficient with each load. The old hose, somewhat suspect, was wrapped in duct tape and tied from the ceiling with all sorts of interesting modifications.

The ride home was pleasant. I took my time and called Mom. Her old computer is giving her more and more problems so she’s finally decided to purchase a new one. Mom and my sister were going computer shopping yesterday for a new laptop.

Page Three

Down in the dark and cool basement, I pulled out the dryer and inspected a real mess. The previous owner had obviously not spent too much thought or time on the installation of the vent; in fact, what vent? The vent hose ran up the basement wall and outside through a hastily hacked hole in the floor sill. It simply blew hot air under the front porch, no vent flap to keep critters or cold air from coming in, nothing. At least now I know where any mice caught in the basement have come from.

I thought possibly I could get to the vent opening by removing the screw nails that secured the floorboards of the porch, but there was no such luck. Large flooring spikes had been used rather than screws. I could have crawled under, a distance of twenty feet, and worked while lying on my back in a very limited space. Since its January, that didn’t seem like a viable option. I decided to go for Plan C…  do it the best I could from inside, down the basement.

I won’t go into the procedures and mutterings that took place. I’m grateful the previous owner lives several states away, and doubly thankful Sargie couldn’t hear me, as I worked over and around the water heater while guessing, more than seeing, in very poor light, and continually bumping my head on the low, overhead, rafters.

At this point, the discharge hose is completely clean. Resigned that any large changes will have to wait until spring, I rewrapped the original hose with duct tape, insulated and plugged the hole where it exits the house, and called it quits. For a person who called himself a wood worker with a flair for the artsy side of life, the previous owner sure cobbled together some fine messes. I’ll redo the entire dryer discharge system this summer.

Page Four

Student papers are beginning to pour into my inbox and I spent a couple of hours sipping coffee and reading early Friday afternoon. It appears I am going to have some good students this semester.

It was time to go fishing. Which lake? I hate making life and death decisions but opted for the closest, the one at the end of our road, the lake that supplied pounds and pounds of fresh filets last year.

I fished for almost three hours and in the end, caught only one nice bluegill. I should have stayed home and taken a nap. It’s not for lack of fish. I see them down there on the sonar, but getting them to hit is something else. With darkness approaching, I packed up and came home.

Page Five

Back in the barn, I tried filling a low tire with air, but the compressor refused to cooperate. I finally disconnected the thing and brought it into the kitchen to thaw. It reawakened and roared to life last night, proving that just like a Timex, it takes a licking, but keeps on ticking. Sargie would be so proud of me. I know she loves air compressors in the middle of her kitchen floor.

With the firewood carried in and Brutus exercised for the day, I did some light housework, then jumped in the shower and made ready for an action-packed evening of eating supper and dozing, all while pretending to watch television.

I fixed some really good nachos for dinner. I think in my previous life, I might have been a chef during the gold rush days in the Klondike’s only Mexican restaurant.

What’s on today’s agenda? I don’t know. There are several inches of new snow to remove, copious amounts of papers to grade, and then there are the NFL playoff games to watch, a nap to take, and as always, meat to put on the table. I guess I’m not surprised.

Though I've been pouring through the seed catalogues making my wish-list, gardening season seems an awfully long ways away.

We all know that a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road… 

Sundown Thursday evening