May 24, 2015 - Tuesday
58 degrees/cloudy/rainy/calm winds
Pentoga Road

Finally, after suffering through temperatures in the high eighties, coupled with thirty mph winds and dust bowl-like conditions on Monday, today has returned to more normal conditions. Al Gore would have jumped up and down while clapping his hands and squealed in delight like a little school girl around here yesterday. Global warming was alive and well, well, at least for one day.

The last of the geese migrating north 

I spent all morning and part of the afternoon in the garden on Monday. Thankfully, all the vegetables are planted with just a few flowers remaining.

This year, we have four types of tomatoes, three kinds of peppers, cucumbers, parsnips, radishes, peas, rutabagas, four varieties of pumpkins, five of winter squash, and zucchini squash. The pole beans will be planted once the giant sunflowers sprout so they can climb the stalks and provide us with fresh green beans later in the summer, and of course, there's the mandatory partridge in a pear tree. No garden would be complete without one.

Neighbor Mike is down from Marquette to his camp and he invited me up for a soda and quick gab session. I took a break and gladly gulped a can of cold ginger ale to wash down the dust while supervising his work on a new porch. The boy is showing some promise.

The afternoon was spent riding the mower. Though we've been extremely dry, the grass has continued to grow and it was time for a trim. 

A quick late afternoon shower felt heavenly as I was covered with dust and dirt from head to toe. With Sargie due home, I put hamburgers on the grill and made salads, hoping to time her arrival, our supper, and the finale of Dancing With the Stars to happen all at once. It did.

Sargie's off today. Hopefully, we'll get more rain, but if not, there's a flower planter or two that needs to be redone. Last year's flowers were kept alive all winter in the basement, but are root bound and need to be separated with new compost and soil added. Otherwise, the sky's the limit.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Fly fishing for trout on the Brule River
Taken from the Pentoga Bridge