I arrived home to find that Sargie had completed the final phases of remodeling the kitchen

March 26, 2014 – Wednesday

-11 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

What a relief it is to be home. Who needs those balmy 70 and 80 degree temperatures filled with bright early-spring sunshine, let along all the fruit trees and flowers, the early ones in full blossom. That good southern hospitality, all the wonderful food that’s available in the Deep South, no frozen pipes, and Lord, who can live with all that greenery… grass and leaves and dirt that’s actually not frozen. Those poor Southerners.

Reality hit home as I stepped from the plane into yesterday’s temperatures in the low teens accompanied by wind gusts of twenty-five miles per hour. To paraphrase Dorothy, I knew I wasn’t in Kansas anymore.

Earlier on Tuesday morning, I attempted to sleep  on an airport bench after writing, but all I managed was a series of catnaps that ended around 4 AM. I need to face reality, after two years of retirement, I’ve lost my airport mojo. Gone are the days of curling up in furthest corner of a remote concourse and snoozing the night away. Oh well, even Babe Ruth reached a period in his life that he didn’t hit a home run every time he stepped up to the plate.

This concourse hallway in Minneapolis looks like something that came from the set of Star Trek.

The most exciting occurrence was running into Sargie’s old PE and History teacher from her high school days while waiting in the gate area in Minneapolis. I enjoyed listening to Bob and his wife talk about the Mighty Milligans, when all eight children were growing up high atop Milligan Mountain.

Downtown Minneapolis

I'm guessing that's where the Minnesota Twins play baseball with the old football dome to the left.

The flight was a bit ahead of schedule and I delighted in calling Sargie and telling her I’d been delayed by an hour, then surprising her and walking into the house just minutes later. We hugged and kissed and laughed and we almost fell like two bowling pins as Brutus pried between us to get his share of attention. It was good to be back home.

I talked with Andy for a bit yesterday afternoon. He worked most the day and all that remains in his house is a couch and television, two essential man-pieces needed until his final walk out the door. The couch is already promised and the television will go into storage.

Speaking of televisions, I was successful in fixing ours. I was going to begin unhooking and sorting the basketball size knot of wires that plug into the back when I noticed there was no power cord.

Outside antenna? Check. Satellite cord? Yup. Cords to the Roku and DVD player? Uh huh. But where was the power cord?

I found it firmly attached and wound around a million other wires, but it wasn’t connected to the television. Evidently, while Sargie was cleaning this past week, it came undone and fell into the abyss of tangled electronics, that pit from digital Hades, that reaches out to entrap not only other wires, but anything that falls from the back of the television.

Sargie has the house and kitchen looking better than ever. She has a real decorator’s touch and the kitchen looks so modern and clean. We’re both really happy the way it turned out. After I insulate from the outside this coming summer, we’ll be able to cross the kitchen off our remodel list, at least until an unknown rich uncle dies and leaves us enough money for new cabinets.

Last night was spent watching television and talking, mostly talking, and getting caught up on this past week’s happenings. I graded a few papers and played a bit of pretend indoor fetch with Brutus. That’s where I roll the ball a few feet into the dining room and he acts like it’s wild prey that needs a bulldog’s attention.

Sargie works today. I have several things on my to-do list; first I’ll ride with her partway to Iron Mountain and walk five miles back home. The final retirement papers from Maine need completing so I can begin collecting that pension in June. There's a used backhoe for sale that I want to inquire about. More specialty pepper seeds arrived from China and need to be sprouted between wet paper towels. If it warms up sufficiently, I’ll begin sorting the maple equipment in the barn, bringing some indoors to be washed and sterilized, and prepare for the season that’s bound to arrive, probably later rather than sooner.

But first, its time for a cup of tea and listen to the news.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…

The view out our kitchen window