Grady and PawPaw dug potatoes on Sunday

October 17, 2016 - Monday

47 degrees/light rain/breezy

Pentoga Road

It's another one of those very early mornings. I don't know what it is. I wake up and for whatever reason, I'm unable to go back to sleep. My mind kicks into overdrive to where I analyze everything and the truth be known, there's nothing worthwhile to analyze. Go figure. 

Sunday dawned picture perfect. Jerad came out around 9 and we checked the traps... nothing. I'll check again this morning.

Sargie left for work midmorning while Grady and I headed to the garden to dig potatoes. 

These are the same spuds that Grady helped to plant last spring so I thought it would be good if he equated the two activities... planting equals harvest. 

I'm not certain he understood the concept, but he was a good helper... for about half the row.

We sang as we dug, his foot on one side of the garden fork, mine on the other. We counted to three when pulling the fork back, and warbled, Way Down Yonder in the Paw Paw Patch at the top of our voices... only we substituted taters for pawpaws. 

Like most two year olds, Hambone's attention began to wander about halfway down the row. Worms became much more interesting and making roads in the dirt was a heck of a lot more fun. Still, in the end, we carried a large basket of potatoes to the barn and called it a success.

Grady went down for a nap and I was doing some big-person stuff outside when Katie, Ryan, and their almost two-year-old son, Cody, arrived to look at the pumpkin and visit.

I gently awakened Grady and asked if he wanted to play with a new friend. 

The boys had a lot of fun. I took them for four wheeler rides and they did what two-year-old boys do on warm, sunny, fall days.

Katie and Ryan are a wonderful couple. Katie's a physician's assistant, Ryan an optometrist. They're the kind of young people that I don't mind handing the future off to, professional, hard working, and family loving. I hated to see them head home.

Grady and I suffered through the Packers loss to the Cowboys. Whew, it wasn't pretty and by game's end, I remembered all those losing years during the 1970's, 80's, and early 90's when the Packers dwelt at the bottom of the standings. I hope to live long enough to see them rise to greatness again. They sure don't have it now.

Sargie was home early and we spent the evening doing Grandma/Grandpa things. It was pretty uneventful.

Grady will be riding with Grandma Sargie back to Iron Mountain this morning. I'll go for my walk and after, probably end up in the shop. I've deferred turning on my new lathe for the past three months in favor of other chores that needed to be finished by summer's end. Most are done.

Speaking of time, I'm going to head back upstairs to bed. This middle of the night thing is for the birds.

Having two, two-year-old boys around took a lot out of the old bulldog. Brutus was happy to retire to the doorway of his house and let the world pass him by.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...