Just on the other side of the deer fence, a doe and her two fawns are drooling over the goodies in the orchard and garden just a few feet away. (Taken from inside the living room.)

August 8, 2016 - Monday

46 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It appears to be another near-perfect day on the horizon. Problem is, we need rain, just an inch or two of nice easy rain. According to Carl the Weatherman, the next opportunity for any type of precipitation will be on Thursday in the form of thunderstorms. 

I'm not sure what type of apple this is. It is a soft, sweet, variety, the type that is good to eat right from the tree, yet has a very short shelf life. 

I didn't get very ambitious on Sunday. The day began in the garden by watering a couple of the raised beds. This is the worst garden I've grown in years. I think part of the problem is that I've been cross pollinating various varieties and saving seeds for several years and many of the vegetables are too closely bred. In other words, the family tree has no branches and the genetics are too close. Basically, there are too many horticultural cousins marrying cousins.

The tomatoes have some sort of fungus on the leaves and many fruits are deformed, the peppers have NO blossoms or peppers, many of the winter squash only have one or two fruits on their vines. The cucumbers aren't of very good quality and the broccoli decided to skip making heads this year and simply sent out shoots. It's not been a premium growing year. 

Last season produced my best garden. I guess we can't have a winner every year.

I've already decided that I'll scrap everything except for the giant pumpkins and begin anew next spring.

One thing for certain, the giant pumpkins are gaining pounds per day. Hopefully this one won't rot before it can be delivered to nephew Derek's doorstep a couple of weeks before Halloween.

I'll begin measuring the largest pumpkin this next week, but I'm certain it's well over a hundred pounds.

Sargie prepared a fantastic brunch late Sunday morning. We enjoyed French toast, eggs, and bacon, all covered with homemade maple syrup. As Mom likes to say, it was a "stick to your ribs" type meal.

We enjoyed our usual Sunday afternoon drive and stopped by Yooper Brother Mark and Sheri's to deliver a few zucchini squash and beets. Poor Mark. He just arrived home from New York after a week of meetings and now must turn around and go to Kentucky for the same this coming week. To make matters worse, he has a wedding to perform and must be back by Friday afternoon. Oh yes, not only is he vice president of his company, he's also the mayor of Caspian, Michigan, which entitles him to marry those within his jurisdiction. 

Sargie and I decided it was too nice of a day to NOT go fishing. We shortened our drive, came home, changed clothes, and headed to the lake.

Fishing wasn't great, but the scenery was.

Neither of us would have won a fishing tournament last night and in the end, turned loose the few keepers we'd caught to live another day.

An adult, along with an immature eagle, high atop a dead pine tree.

The biggest thrill of the evening came when a small perch was attacked by a much larger northern pike as I was reeling it in. I had both on for only a few seconds before the pike turned loose.

Those are pretty good teeth marks on the back half of that perch.

Sargie put together the ingredients for stuffed zucchini last night. I'll put it in the oven this afternoon to bake and be ready for this evening's supper.

Sargie's back to work this morning. I'm going to go for my usual walk then plan to finish filling in the holes in the side yard before it becomes too hot this afternoon.

Meanwhile, it's time to pour another cup of coffee and listen to the news.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Always on the alert, Guide Sargie scans the lake for signs of championship caliber bluegills.