A pink Cosmos surrounded by rutabagas, parsnips, and Delecata winter squash

July 26, 2015 - Sunday morning

64 degrees/sunny/calm winds

Pentoga Road

These past few days have seen Crystal Falls hosting the Upper Peninsula Volunteer Fireman's Association Tournament and without fail, as with almost every other year, they have been the hottest days of the summer.

That's my buddy Jerad, middle front, Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri's little guy, leading the Caspian/Gaastra Fire Department in the opening parade.

Saturday morning was spent in the garden. I attempted to do some spraying, but found my sprayer had sprung a leak. I gave up on that idea.

The rest of the time was spent weeding, watering, and harvesting. Though we've not received any meaningful rainfall in a couple of weeks, with irrigation, everything is growing by leaps and bounds.

".... in the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight..."

I picked five heads of cauliflower yesterday. Finally, my timing was almost perfect as a couple of heads were about ready to bolt due to the recent hot weather.

Later in the day, we ate what we wanted, then I blanched the rest and put six large bags of cauliflower in the freezer for eating during the winter months.

The zucchini squash are beginning to set and I picked two of the largest ones, peeled and sliced each, and am waiting on a third to get a bit bigger so I can make pickles. We like the pickled zucchini as much or more than the cucumbers as they taste like sweet relish.

Speaking of cucumbers, they are setting and I'll begin harvesting those and making pickles sometime next week.

A giant pumpkin update:

The original pumpkin continues to grow in leaps and bounds and is now the size of a large softball. I also hand-pollinated a second female blossom Saturday morning, my back up. The original pumpkin has been set on a piece of plywood to keep it off the ground and hopefully, prevent rotting on the bottom.

Other than to raise a big pumpkin, one of my goals is to beat my oldest son, Josh's, sunflower record. He grew a flower several years ago that reached a height of between fifteen to twenty feet. I saw it with my own eyes. When one can look out a second floor window at a flower that is eye-level, you know it's a tall one. I have one (among several) that seems to be a candidate. Right now, it's several feet taller than I am and growing a foot or two each week. 

The winter squash to my left are almost shoulder high

We went into town Saturday afternoon so I could buy a new inexpensive sprayer and made a few other stops before taking a short drive and coming back home.

The sun was getting lower in the sky and the temperatures were cooling off. Sargie and I decided it was time to go fishing.

Now I don't mind telling you, losing an angling competition every now and then is okay, but this is getting ridiculous. I taught the girl, who had never been fishing until three years ago, everything I know, bought her a new "girl reel," gave her love, support, and encouragement, and this is the way she repays me:

A northern pike, a beauty in anyone's book

a good eating-sized crappie

... or how about a three-pound largemouth bass

My catch for the night? One undersized bass and a teeny bluegill. I'm going to attempt to talk Sargie into quitting her day job to become a full time guide. People pay huge money to have someone show them how to catch fish like she's been hauling into the boat. 

Sunset

This is Sargie's last day off for the week. It's to be another hot one, so no doubt, we'll do what needs to be done early then either keep cool this afternoon by staying in the air conditioning or taking our usual Sunday afternoon ride.

And then there's this evening... fishing? Yeah, she'd like that. Uh huh. Anything to rub a bit of salt in my wounds. 

So with that being said, it's time to pour a cup of coffee and plan a sound fishing strategy for tonight. After all, my delicate self esteem can only take so much. It's not easy being trounced night after night by a lady who uses a pink fishing reel.

As everyone knows, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...