Andy and two-week old, Ivy

December 29, 2015 - Tuesday
20 degrees/cloudy/breezy
Pentoga Road

So where's that big blizzard that was to blanket us with feet and feet (or at least several inches) of snow? How about those thirty mph winds, gusting to forty? Carl-the-Weatherman lied again. It appears two inches may have fallen; well, if I go outside and fluff it there might be two inches. Otherwise, we're looking at an inch... maybe. 

Working up fire wood on Monday afternoon in preparation for the storm that never arrived.

Our home is snug, but it's still a ninety-five year old house. A strong east gale turns our normally cozy abode into something resembling a breezy barn. Thankfully, due to a change in Mother Nature's plans, we don't have to break out the parkas and whale blubber to stave off hypothermia.

At my insistence, Sargie stayed with Jeanne and Boyd last night in Iron Mountain. She was caught in a storm last winter and at one time, slid backwards down a large hill and remained there until a county plow happened by. I told her then that would be the last time she braved a storm to come home. Naturally, the one night she stayed in town, the storm didn't materialize. Oh well, better safe than sorry.

Normally, when we don't receive the normal snowfall, we bemoan the lack of precipitation. This year, due to the rains of the past few weeks, the water table is sitting on top of the ground in several places towards the rear of the property. In fact, it wouldn't take much for Lake Pentoga to turn into an acre-size body of water, something that usually happens only in the wettest of springs. It's a strange year. 

At least the lake should freeze faster since there was no storm. Snow insulates what little ice covers the lake and the heat of the water underneath prevents more from forming. 

Mom and I had a quiet day on Monday. I did a load of laundry. Mom supervised, read a book, watched some television, and of course, we did our fair share of talking.

My sister, Barb, (second from right, back row) sent this Christmas picture of my nieces and nephews, herself, and my brother-in-law.

At one point, we went into town for some suet for the birds. A stop was made at Yooper Mark's plant.. purely a social visit. The boy was navigating the rocky waters of the wood products business without the help of his trusty administrative assistant, Ann, who's been on vacation. Mark seemed to have his finger on the pulse of his industry, so after eating several chocolates from a box that was given to him as a Christmas gift, we bade him goodbye and continued on. 

I stopped by the muffler shop and made an appointment to have the Kia worked on. Sargie's little bug suddenly sounds like a kick-butt sports car that is ready to take on all comers. I figured I'd better get it fixed before she gets a speeding ticket... or, more likely, one for excessive noise. The car's to be in the shop on Wednesday afternoon.

I spent some time working on the snowblower, tightening up the auger belt. I need to get some carburetor cleaner, Sea Foam, and dump in the gas tank today. The machine starts, but doesn't run very smoothly. I forgot to drain the gas last spring. 



So that was our day, pretty ho hum. 

Okay, on to serious, deep-thought, business. So you know how it's said that small children and puppies resemble each other? The proof's in the pudding... or in this case, the pictures:

Ivy

Grady

Scout, the black lab puppy.
Seems the puppy fell asleep while visiting Luke as he was sitting, reading, and thinking deep thoughts.

I rest my case.

I'm hoping with the colder temperatures forecast that enough ice might form for ice fishing next week. I'm also going to begin construction on the first of several strawberry pyramids that have been promised to others. It's going to be a busy time either way.  

Sargie opens today, then due to the New Year's holiday, has Wednesday through Friday off. She should be home fairly early tonight.

I'm going to spend some time in the shop today. I made several messes before Christmas and was in such a hurry that I left everything sit on the benches. It's time to clean before beginning the next project. One thing I've noticed with this diminishing eyesight... if I don't put everything back in it's place, exactly where it belongs, it very well could be lost for all eternity. Worse yet, I have to ask Sargie to come out to the shop or barn, a place normally reserved for spit 'n whittlin' man folk, and have her find whatever I'm looking for. It's easier to keep things put away where they belong.

Believe me, Brutus is no help in the shop. He's a bigger pig than I am.

The clock just chimed six times which means that first all-important cup of coffee is sitting in the pot, waiting to be poured and enjoyed. Darn straight. Think I'll sip some java, listen to the news, and think a deep thought or two. It's just the way I roll.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

"Poison" Ivy