Once again, Sargie put on a fishing clinic Sunday evening. I wonder if there's such an event as The Bluegill Masters Tournament?

August 1, 2016 - Monday

52 degrees/clear skies/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I put through the lousiest night of sleep that I've experienced in a long time. I'm not certain what bug is calling my body home, but I wish it would run its course and go away.

Saturday evening found me with four or five sores inside my mouth and a swollen and sore throat. I woke up Sunday morning with the joints on the upper half of my body aching. A liberal dose of ibuprofen made the day comfortable, but it wore off around midnight and that was the end of any sleep. 

Sargie fears Lyme disease as I pulled more than a few ticks off my body earlier this summer. I'm thinking malaria, yellow fever, or perhaps the Black Plague. Regardless, I've promised her that if the symptoms don't go away in the next couple of days, I'll make arrangements to visit the doctor.

Sunday found me in the garden doing my usual morning chores. I had to run twine, encircling the outside of each chocolate cherry tomato plant, as they've far outgrown their oversized cages (each four feet tall) and are now taller than my head. I took this picture at eye level.

Walking between the plants is like taking a stroll in the enchanted forest.

The flowers around the fountain are beginning to blossom making the teeny goldfish basin seem much more natural.



I made my way to the barn and reassembled the mower. The initial test cut wasn't too impressive. Seems the belt was twisted causing the blades to run backwards. That was quickly rectified and the old machine should be good for the remainder of the season.

It was time to work in the side yard, to remove the last of the boulders that have insisted on sticking above the ground just enough to catch the mower blades. I used the bucket on the old Ford tractor to move the backhoe.



I was happily digging along when something struck me.  Seems I dug into a yellow jacket nest.

I couldn't see the darn things, but I could sure hear them. Fearing an attack by the entire colony, I maneuvered the backhoe far enough away to begin digging again and darn if I didn't uncover another nest. I found the entrance to that one and last night, well after dark, poured diesel fuel down the hole, and lit it. It burned underground for quite a while.

 

I finished digging Sunday afternoon and depending on the yellow jacket situation, should be able to scoop the rocks and boulders into the bucket and begin filling the holes with dirt this coming week.



While I was playing Hide and Go Seek with the Yellow Jackets, Brutus treed a squirrel and sat like a statue for well over two hours, daring the critter to come down. It never did.

Sargie had to work from noon until five. She indicated before leaving that she'd like to go fishing Sunday evening. No problem there.



Conditions were perfect and the action was fast enough to keep us occupied. We had our usual big-money contest and as usual, Sargie came out the grand champion and pocketed five cents. 

It was dark before we loaded the boat onto the trailer. I cleaned fish under lamp light at the table in the garden while Sargie made ready for another week of work.



I'm not certain what's in store for today, probably a nap at some point. Sargie opens this morning. I hope to walk my five miles then I'll see what the yellow jacket situation is. If the nest was destroyed, I'll work in the side yard. If not, the back of the storage unit needs to be painted and the drip edge repaired. I noticed last spring that some of the melt water was running back up underneath the soffit rather than onto the ground. I did something wrong when I installed the drip edge two years ago.

Regardless, I'll find it. Oh yes, it will be repaired. After all man's work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

The bluegills aren't huge by any means, but they qualify as "eaters."