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| Bet you'll never guess who's on the other side of that bib. |
25 degrees/clear (and starry)/calm
Pentoga Road
Well, darn it... I got up a while ago, thinking it was 4:30 AM when it was really 3:30. I forgot about the time change, so here I am, up in the middle of the night, wide awake and no place to go.
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| There's plenty of snow in Snow Country along Lake Superior, just an hour north of here. |
We drove to Marquette Saturday morning to pick up Grady. After a quick stop to see Daddy at the bank and a drive-through at the local Big Lots store, we headed the car back south.
I don't believe there's any need for written dialogue to accompany the following pictures. Grady's in the house and he commanded Grandma, Grandpa, and Brutus's attention (in very good ways) right up until bedtime.
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| Grady's become very mature and now holds his own bottle. Look at the size of those paws! |
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| We took a walk through the woods after chowing down on a bottle of milk and rice. |
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| Then came Grandpa time. I think Grady will be a dentist when he grows up. |
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| The boy's a delicate eater. Grandma couldn't shove it in fast enough. |
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| Refusing to leave his side, Brutus slept in the guest bedroom by Grady's crib Saturday night. |
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| Grady and Grandpa grading papers |
We had a wonderful day on Saturday and thoroughly enjoyed our little guy. Mommy and Daddy are to be here around 9:30 this morning for breakfast, then will dress Grady in his Halloween costume for us to see and eventually, make their way over to Iron Mountain and his other grandparents.
I promised Macrea I'd make super-dooper pancakes along with eggs and sausage this morning for breakfast. No calories there.
With the nighttime temperatures rapidly plummeting, I need to dig potatoes today after everyone leaves. I'm fearful the ground will freeze and ruin this year's crop. I'm also going to pull the rutabagas. They were grown especially for the Mighty Milligan Thanksgiving Day dinner and I don't want to take a chance of their freezing.
It's still in the wee hours of the morning and my writing is done. The emails have been sent and the web page is about to be uploaded. I guess there's nothing left to do other than grade what papers might have come in overnight.
After all, a man's work is never done.
So are the tales from Pentoga Road...
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