Winter must be here. Another winter weather advisory has been posted for Tuesday night and Wednesday

November 21, 2016 - Monday

17 degrees/partly cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

I'm running a day late and a dollar short this morning as I slept right up to the alarm. I must be getting old.

Sunday was one of those days I'd rather forget. After seeing Sargie off, I proceeded to work on several little projects. I knew it was going to be a bad day when I followed the wrong line and cut the beak and leg off a chickadee.

Holy cow, I was upset. The mistake cost me almost two hours of work, intricate cutting that flowed right down down the drain.

Not enough light... I simply couldn't get enough light to see.

What to do?

I solved the problem by constructing a light stand from which to hang an LED high intensity light. Problem solved!

I'm expecting Popular Mechanics to call at any moment offering to pay big bucks for the plans. 

Meanwhile...

Two pieces of old 2x4's were glued together in hopes that they might eventually become a short, stubby, nutcracker. We'll see.

I was spraying adhesive on another plan made of paper with the intensions of sticking it to a piece of wood. Somehow, the adhesive got on my fingers. I made the mistake of touching the paper which stuck to my fingers and having a hissy fit, I wasn't very careful about removing it. The plans tore.

The paper was finally pieced back together and mounted on the wood. I was cutting along when I noticed the old Dremel scroll saw was running slower. Suddenly, smoke began drifting from the motor. The engine burned up. My refugee from Neighbor Mike's trash pile died.

I decided the only thing that would make me feel better was to play with the lathe, try to make something meaningful, a mug, possibly a bowl.

I went to the wood shed and selected a small piece of aged maple. Perfect. 

It began well. Why, I could do this! Shavings peeled away and the wood began to look more like a mug than a limb. Heck, this was fun!

Well, it was until I got too cocky and applied too much pressure. The chisel came back and somehow or the other, caught my hand, peeling off a chunk of skin.

My first piece of work might have a permanent blood stain. At least everyone will know it's mine.

I'd had enough. There are days when it's simply not worth kicking a dead horse in the name of fine craftsmanship. I turned off the heat, the music, the lights, the machinery, woke up Brutus, and we came in the house.

Sargie was home early and together, we watched the Packers play some of the lousiest football I've seen in years. It was a fitting ending to a crummy day. 

Ah, but today's a new beginning. Sargie opens and should be home fairly early tonight.

I'm going for my walk and once home, plan to pick the rutabagas for the Mighty Milligan Thanksgiving meal. It's time. 

No doubt, I'll end up in the shop and try it all over again. Other than the old scroll saw dying, nothing happened that can't be redone.

How do I know it's going to be a good day? All I have to do is look out the window. Any morning that begins as beautiful as this one can't be all bad.

Time to get busy.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Monday morning's sunrise on Pentoga Road