Sargie's working on her "Bras for a Cause" project for this year

October 28, 2015 - Wednesday

41 degrees/rain/wind

Pentoga Road

If it were ten degrees colder, all this rain that is pelting down would be snow, inches and inches, maybe feet and feet of snow. I'm glad it's a relatively balmy forty-one degrees. I'm not yet in the mental or physical frame of mind to begin shoveling snow, at least not yet. 

Tuesday found me hacking and coughing. About the time I thought I felt better, another bout would set on and I'd bark for several more minutes. Sargie had finally had enough and insisted I call the doctor's office. I had endured ten days of being sick and I finally agreed. 

Young Dr. Katie, who's somewhere between my youngest son and oldest granddaughter's age, came bouncing into the examination room full of smiles and energy. I told her my symptoms, she shined a light into my ears and throat, listened through the stethoscope as I coughed and breathed deeply, then prescribed some medication. 

I mumbled something about getting a flu shot and mentioned that with the last vaccination, I'd become violently ill. Katie affirmed I should have one anyway. I looked at her as I pondered the next step.

Katie was probably still in elementary school and playing Barbi's with her friends during recess when I got the shot from hell.

I was north of the Arctic Circle, seventeen miles from my closest neighbor, enduring -40 degree temperatures while repeatedly discharging the contents of my stomach, including all my vital organs, into a five gallon bucket. I hesitated and was about to decline when Little Katie flashed her beautiful smile as her eyes assured me that a flu shot could be a good thing. How does a father/grandpa say no to that?  I sighed and rolled up my sleeve.

Vaccinated and prescribed for, Sargie and I left the clinic and drove back to Iron River to purchase bread. We were almost to the store when she reminded me that it was Chicken Tuesday! 

I understand that in other parts of the universe, Chicken Tuesday doesn't mean a whole lot, but in our neck of the woods, that means an eight-pack of fried chicken is a dollar cheaper at our local grocery/deli. One is greeted in the parking lot with a waft that reminds me of Mom's Sunday dinners of old and it only gets stronger as he walks through the door. We later exited with a box of freshly fried chicken and a loaf of homemade bread.

The rain had stopped and the sun was trying to come out. I decided to make an attempt to remove the glass from the solar heater. That that Garry and I installed turned out to be energy efficient glass embedded with metal to reflect the sun's rays, not at all what I want covering a solar heater.

I pried and it appeared the panel might pop out in one piece. A bit more pressure was applied. 

The sound could have been straight from a Road Runner/Wily Coyote cartoon. I heard a crackling, quite small and insignificant. The sound got louder and I watched as the glass cracked into a million pieces. As Sargie later said, if glass were diamonds, we'd have been millionaires.

Thankfully, we had a tarp on the ground to catch the mess. With Sargie's help, we made quick work of the removal and I later stapled clear plastic cloth on the front to protect the interior from the weather. 

It's to be in the fifties and sunny next week. I'll wait until then to custom make the frame and mount the new polycarbonate panels.

There was still some daylight left. I grabbed a chain saw and cut up a dead maple tree that had been felled earlier into chunks. I'll move and split those when the weather clears. 

I watched television last evening while Sargie worked on her Bras for a Cause project. Each year, the Iron Mountain community has a huge event to raise funds for breast cancer research in honor of Sargie's sister, Susy, who passed away several years ago from breast cancer. Several hundred bras are decorated, modeled, and auctioned off, making thousands of dollars. Sargie's past works of art have sold for some hefty money and I'm sure this year's bra with the sunflower motif will do the same.

I'm feeling so much better this morning that I can hardly believe it. What to do? What to do?

Sargie opens today at the Vision Center. I wish she could stay home by the wood stove where it's dry and warm.

As for me? It's cold and rainy and any outside work is out of the question. I think I'll turn on the heat and clean the shop. Tools are still sitting around from Garry's and my solar project of two weeks ago. After, well, I think maybe Brutus and I will start a new project, maybe even spit and whittle a bit. After, it should be time to come inside, eat lunch, then take a nap.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...