Taken from the front porch Monday morning after mowing and trimming the lawn

July 21, 2015 - Tuesday morning

49 degrees/clear/calm

Pentoga Road

Brrr, it's a bit chilly this morning. Several windows were left open during the night so it's not a lot warmer inside than out. The high today is forecast to be a pleasant 74 degrees and by that time, this morning's chill will be forgotten.

Monday was a mixed bag. I began the day by going into town to buy a loaf of homemade bread, but it hadn't been baked yet. There was nothing to do but come back home, sip coffee and grade papers. 

The lawn needed mowing, not in all areas, but it was shaggy looking with tufts of taller grass here and there. I spent the rest of the morning attempting to make it look good, but I know I mowed the same places four or five times and no doubt, missed areas that needed shearing. 

The front wheel on the deck that I spent so much time on last week stayed in place and worked well, but a back wheel, one that I'd welded quite a while ago was misaligned. The deck was removed when I'd reattached the thing and the angle and height were wrong. I decided to do it right.

There's something humbling when one has to grind down his previous work and remove all traces of a former fix then begin again. Still, in the end, the bracket seems to be in the right place and the wheel works as it should.

I turned my attention to the brown wood shed. There's a bit of trim that needed to be fixed and I noticed the moss on the roof, that which I sprayed (to kill) a year ago, had died, but never had come off with this past spring's melt. It was time to get out the power washer.

What a mess! I assumed the stuff would be rotten and disintegrate when the high pressure spray hit it. 

More than two hours was spent cleaning the roof and sides.

The biggest surprise of the day came after I opened the door and found there was mildew on the ceiling. The shed is built tight with little air circulation. It appears when last year's green wood, that which had a large percentage of water content, was stacked inside, it made the interior moist and with no air circulation, mildew formed on the ceiling.

The interior was sprayed and the doors propped open. I'll spray bleach in there today and hopefully, with the proper ventilation, mildew will be a thing of the past. I plan to purchase a couple of side vents when in Green Bay on Friday and will install those next week. It's always something.

I noticed there's a crack between where the new cement was poured in the garage two years ago and the old footing that was left in place. The area was cleaned and concrete filler poured into the crack. The frigid winter temperatures and spring thaws cause the floor to heave up and down, sometimes as much as two to three inches each spring when the frost heaves from the ground. I've come to learn that there is no such thing as a pretty garage floor or poured drive in the Upper Peninsula.

I'm having to water the garden daily and am using a fifty foot drip hose that seems to be working well. I move it from one bed to the other, usually after letting the water drip for an hour-and-a-half to two hours. 

I'm tickled to see the Kibet tomatoes, those whose seeds I purchased from the Ukraine two years ago, growing and doing well. They are a short season tomato and we should begin enjoying the tiny pear-shaped fruits in another two weeks.

Sargie was home later last evening. She closes tonight, so it will be another long day for her.

I'm not sure what's on my agenda. I need to make up the last test of the summer session and it's hard to believe that this semester is almost over. I've still not heard if I'm teaching this fall. With the budget being slashed by more than half due to tumbling oil prices, I'm not overly optimistic.

I hope to work in the side yard most the day. The temperature is to be cool and the humidity low. As Dad used to say, I need to make hay while the sun shines.

But first, it's time to wake Sargie from her night's slumber, pack her lunch, grab a cup of coffee, listen to the news, and think some deep thoughts.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...