August 12, 2016 - Friday
64 degrees/cloudy/calm winds
Pentoga Road

It took awhile, but the rain finally arrived... in spades. Between the hours of eight o'clock Thursday morning and one yesterday afternoon, we received a very welcome three inches, three wonderful, wet, soaking, inches of water.



Actually, by the time a few more showers had blown through Thursday evening, the gauge had topped three inches.



The best part is that little ran off. There were a few short-lived puddles on the main trail to the rear of the property, but when we drove down to the Mighty Brule River, we noticed it was somewhat elevated, but not even close to flooding. 



The day wasn't wasted. I took the opportunity to grab an umbrella and stroll to the back of the storage shed and check on Wednesday's roofing/drip edge job. Nary a drop was running back underneath. The repair was a hundred percent success.

The garden rejoiced as the heavens opened. Plants that were growing pale green suddenly took on a new life and became more vibrant in a matter of hours.

The new addition to the garden is filled with winter squash and pumpkin vines making walking between them all but impossible.

Sargie and I took our usual day-off drive, first to Crystal Falls, then onto Iron River.

With the rain ending, workers were preparing to go on top of the water tower in Caspian. It appears as though they are sand blasting and painting it. I heard they used Yooper Brother Mark (who happens to also be the mayor) as a model for the happy face. I definitely think there's a resemblance.

Driving through a neighborhood on top of Caspian Hill, we watched a mama and her twins munching apples that had fallen from a tree.

They're so used to seeing people that we probably could have walked up and scratched all three behind the ears.

Once back home, Sargie attacked the refrigerator, taking everything out, getting rid of any forgotten mystery meats, and scrubbing the shelves and interior.

I busied myself by doing a load of laundry. While that was drying, I swept the upstairs carpeting and steps.

The watermelon was cold and sweet making for the best of summertime eating.

I fed the pumpkins last night before dark and took one last stroll around the garden.

The largest pumpkin, now weighing well over a hundred pounds, continues to grow daily at an unbelievable rate. I need to put another piece of plywood between it and the pallet today so it doesn't sag between the boards.

I'm asked what type of pumpkin this giant is. The variety is a pure lineage from the 2,300 pound world champion of two years ago. I purchased one seed, not even guaranteed to sprout, for $35. Needless to say, I hand pollinated this particular variety, both last year and this, to protect my investment and keep the strain pure.

It's not a jack-o-lantern type nor is it meant to be pretty. The fruit is really nothing more than a giant squash bred for it's ability to quickly gain size and weight. In fact, most, including last year's, have a tendency to sag under their own weight. It's not unusual for them to crush themselves to death before the end of the growing season, creating rotten places and cracks, rendering the pumpkin completely worthless, making all the summer's feeding and work moot. 

How do I weigh it? I don't. There's an official chart where one measures the pumpkin from stem to stern, the girth, and performs a few mathematical calculations to arrive at an estimate.  If I were entering it into a real competition, and there are several nationally, the pumpkin would be placed in a sling and lowered onto a truck scale. 

Other than watching people stop their cars and taking pictures of each other beside it, I'm not sure why I enjoy raising them so much. Really, it's a pain in my backside. The process is expensive (with the constant fertilizing) and considering the pruning and feeding, very time consuming. The huge misshapen fruit is simply a conversation piece, something to keep an old retired school teacher occupied during the summer months. 

Last year's 500 lb pumpkin

One type of winter squash, (I can't remember the variety as I simply save the seeds year after year) seems to be doing quite well. I waded into the vines for a quick inspection last night.

I've done quite a bit of reading concerning the lack of blossoms and fruits setting on vines and plants. I think my problem lies in last winter's wood ashes. I dumped all of them on the raised beds throughout the heating season and have come to the conclusion that I overdid it, raising the PH of the soil to unhealthy levels. Thankfully, the residue should leach out over the winter and we'll begin again next spring.

One thing's for certain, I'll not be spreading any ashes on the garden this winter.

Another reason for lack of fruits could be pollination. I don't see a lot of bees in the garden this year. If it continues, I'll be getting a hive or two in the years to come. 

This Hubbard squash is getting huge, around thirty pounds, but it's the only one on the vine. Normally, there should be four or five.

We watched the Olympics last night up to bedtime. With the fresh night air blowing into the bedroom, sleep came to both of us quickly. 

Sargie closes tonight, but is off this weekend. After my walk, I think I'll see if there are enough cucumbers to make another batch of pickles. If not, I'll head to the shop and play the day away out there. It's to remain cloudy with a chance of showers for the next two days.

Time to grab another cup of coffee and think deep thoughts.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Rain rain go away...
Growing tired of being forced inside, Brutus opted to sit under cover on the front porch and look for squirrels from afar.