Sandhill Cranes in a recently mowed hay field.
Taken during Thursday morning's hike.

July 31, 2015 - Friday

61 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

Okay, so where's my Pilates ball? My back aches and I need to resume using the thing on a daily basis.

For several years, it, along with the inversion machine, have been utilized to stretch my back. I lay on it, belly up, both feet flat on the floor, relax, and gently push with my feet, causing my back to stretch while being supported by the ball. It works like a charm.

It was last summer; my back had felt good for several weeks and tiring of tripping over the ball when not in use, I decided it was no longer needed. It was deflated, folded, and put away. BUT WHERE? If anyone stumbles across my powder blue, purchased-years-ago-at-Kmart, Jill Ireland, Pilates ball, let me know where it is, would you?

Once again, rain chose to skip around us Thursday afternoon, opting to travel along a path just a few miles to our south. 

It's amazing how green everything still is considering how little rain has fallen in the past month. I guess that's a good testament to the amounts that have fallen the past two years. 

I returned home after walking five miles on Thursday morning to put up several gallons of blueberries. Due to their blossoms being frozen this early summer, the strawberries were a wash, so anything that even resembles a berry is being frozen in preparation for the cold months ahead.

Attention was next turned to the wood shed. I painted the front last week, but decided that the rest needed a coat of primer before applying the final layer of very expensive, exterior, latex paint. 

I hate painting, always have. For a professional like Uncle Terry, it's an art form. He enjoys preparing the surface, slowly lays out all his tools of the trade, analyzes his next move, then carefully dips his brush into a special bucket, coating only one side, and lovingly lays the color onto the surface. The man has attempted to teach me, but I'm a horrible student and an even worse painter.  

I'm a follower of the plunge method and opt to shove the brush deep into the original can, stirring as I go to make sure the paint is mixed, hurriedly bring it out to lessen the slop and drips, then slap it onto the surface, quickly brushing both ways before it runs completely to the ground and is wasted.  The process generally turns out to be a gooey and sticky mess, often running down my arm, getting on my face, splattering my clothes, and always, without fail, turns out to be a less-than-positive experience. 

So yesterday, I made myself comfortable. I grabbed an old kitchen chair from the barn, a radio, a broom to sweep any new cobwebs that might have been spun overnight, and positioned myself in the shade. As is customary, Brutus made himself at home by my side. I didn't even have to worry if I slopped white primer on him. No one would ever know.

It wasn't bad. A wind was blowing and some good tunes were playing. It took a couple of hours, but in the end, the east side and back of the shed were primed along with my hands, arms, face, and clothing... and Brutus.

After a quick lunch of leftover pike salad, the UP version of tuna salad, (canned northern pike I'd caught  through the ice last winter) and the short mandatory grandpa nap, I headed to the backhoe. It was time to haul and rake another load of fill.

I became almost nostalgic as I dug. This was the second to the last load needed to complete the side yard, a project that began a year ago last spring. 

Okay, I lied. With sweat dripping down my forehead and pouring into my eyes and onto my glasses, I was glad as heck that this current landscaping job is almost done. One more load and I'll be calling the south side, the part of the yard on the other side of the garden, "good 'nuff!" I hope next summer will see a screened gazebo being built in that area.

Sargie was home fairly early last night and we enjoyed grilled brats along with fresh garden cucumbers served in highly secret sauce that only Sargie knows the ingredients to. 

We were talking how nice it would be to have fresh vegetables and anything slowly cooked outside this coming winter. I grill outside all year round, but tire of shoveling four feet of snow each time I want to cook a couple of burgers. 

Last night was a quiet one on Pentoga Road. Sargie has to close tonight making today a very long one for her. I'm going to walk my five miles first thing this morning then repeat yesterday's activities, painting the woodshed and hauling the last load of fill and raking the side yard. Time allowing, I'm need to look for that darn Jill Ireland, Kmart, Pilates ball.

Time to get Sargie up for day and grab a cup of coffee. After all, a man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

You health nuts quit turning up your noses. What you fail to see is a complete and balanced meal with all the food groups included. There's grain (homemade bread), dairy (cheese in the brats), meat, vegetables (pickled yellow and zucchini squash) and cucumbers, and for dessert, we enjoyed fresh blueberries spooned over yogurt. Sure beats a leaf of lettuce drooped over a dry cracker washed down by a kale smoothie.