It's May and time to plant the garden? I wish.

November 2, 2016 - Wednesday

30 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

Only one more week to go... only one more week. In a mere seven days, we should know who will be our next President and the political commercials and name calling will be over. 

I'm so tired of hearing about corruption and scandal and hopefully, beginning on January 20th of 2017, whoever wins can begin to make America great again. I'm growing weary of being a deplorable, angry, undereducated, young, white guy. It's time to move on.

Whoa! Where did this nice weather come from? After my walk Tuesday morning, I loaded the old snow blower into the trailer and took it to the mechanic's.

The decades-old beast ran okay at the beginning of last winter, but didn't throw snow more than a few feet, indicating it needed a new belt. Towards the end of the season, it began to run rough, and by the time the last snow landed on the ground, the snow blower barely ran at all. I asked the mechanic to make it dependable once again.

The majority of the day was spent in the garden.

The last of the dead plants and vines were removed and I even took the mowers out of storage where they'd been put away for the winter months and mowed the grass strip along the fence.

The late pumpkins, those that didn't ripen by Halloween, will be taken to Neighbor Mike's and used as deer bait.

I grew tired of cleaning, hauling, and mowing. Though windy, the day was warm, the sun bright. I hopped on the red four-wheeler and made my way to town for a visit with Yooper Brother Mark.

I arrived at the plant ready to supervise and help make wood products only to find that he'd taken the afternoon off. A quick text from the hooky-playing corporate vice president told me he was off doing the same as I was, riding the trails and wood's roads.

The rest of the afternoon was spent working in the garden with frequent breaks to play with Brutus. Like his human counterpart, he found it difficult to be inactive. In fact, the bulldog with broken down joints acted more like a six week-old puppy than the doormat he's quickly becoming.

I started tilling the raised beds and with any luck, those will be finished this afternoon. I'm already ahead of next spring's garden chores by over a week.

Sargie was home fairly early last night and we spent a nice evening together. The girl gets to sleep in a bit this morning as she doesn't have to work until eleven, but closes tonight.

I've pretty much decided to wait on buying the sawmill. It sure seemed like a good idea a few days ago, but in reality, I'm fearful it would be like purchasing a gym membership; I'd use it for a week or two, maybe a month, and after that, it could very well sit idle. I've got a garden pond/waterfalls to make next spring, a gazebo to construct, and I've already promised to build Grady a playhouse/fort/swing set. I'm not certain when I'd find the time to mill lumber. 

Today... I'm going to attempt to finish the garden. There are weeds to pull that grew under the vine crops and hopefully, the rest of the beds will be tilled. 

I hear rumors that Grady may come home with Grandma Sargie this evening and spend a day or two with us. Sargie is off tomorrow and wants some quality Grandma time. Hambone can help me around the yard, which when freely translated means that he'll get a lot of wheelbarrow and tractor rides. 

Me? I'm going to pour another up of coffee and enjoy some quality Grandpa time in the predawn hours sitting by the fire and thinking deep thoughts.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

With Lake Pentoga finally receding, Brutus is patrolling his favorite haunts.