Friday, January 9, 2015


That's a wild turkey sitting on the cross member. She tried to get to the bird feeders but due to her size, had to be content with picking up the leftovers on the ground.
January 9, 2015 - Friday
-9 degrees/clear/windy
Pentoga Road

I was out of bed over an hour ago when I heard the wind howling, causing the branches of the large spruce tree that hang over the house to brush the roof. 

Actually, the temperature in the house wasn't bad. I'd been up twice during the night feeding the stove with hardwood, maple that I'd cut this past summer. Its density is so great that it will hold a fire and coals much longer than the softer aspen I have been using. 

The snow off the roof (above) has slid enough to block any view from our bedroom windows.


Sargie was off Thursday. We really didn't do too much other than drive to town for a Coke and run an errand or two. It snowed for a few hours, just enough to cause me to get out the plow and clean the drive.

One good thing... the old snow blower wouldn't start the last time I wanted to use it. I switched a spark plug from the large wheeled weed eater and sure enough, the engine on the snow blower roared to life. I'll purchase a new plug the next time I'm in town and return the one that was borrowed to its rightful owner.

A lone hen turkey hung around the back yard most of the afternoon. She looked pathetic. Starved, feathers ragged, and bent down in the driving snow snow, we felt sorry for her and purchased a bushel of shelled corn while in town, also twenty pounds of black sunflower seeds. I'm not sure she'll be back; possibly the bird didn't live through the night, but if she did, there's a feast waiting on the ground under the bird feeders.


Sargie works a long shift today. I'm not sure what's on my agenda. A few early assignments have filtered in and it's undecided whether I'll go fishing. I don't mind the temperature, but oh, that wind. 

I guess whether or not to go will be my deep thought of the morning.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...


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