December 19, 2016 - Monday
-14 degrees/clear/breezy
Pentoga Road

Technically, it's still fall (winter doesn't begin until December 21st) but it sure feels like winter. I read that the average mean temperature across the US at 7 AM Sunday morning was 16 degrees, four degrees colder than at any time last winter. 

I have a former high school student from Maine who now lives in Fairbanks, Alaska, a real John Wayne-type, rootin', tootin', hardcore northerner, and even he indicated that he's tired of the frigid temperatures that they are experiencing this fall. 

Some are calling this global warming. As for the rest of us, we'll just shake our heads and throw another log on the fire. It's what we, who live in the North Woods, do during the cold winter months.

One person who is enjoying the cold and snow, at least in northern Maine, is Ivy.

Andy's home for the holidays from his work in Louisiana and he and Ivy are spending as much time together as possible. 

Meanwhile, just south of the Maine border in New Hampshire, maybe, just maybe, ONE of my grandbabies has my penchant for playing a musical instrument. Matt sent this picture of Emerson rocking out on her pint-sized grand piano.

Hmm, there's something not right here. I've played for almost sixty years and never had a grand piano. Emerson is still a mini-munchkin and she has her own. How does that work?!?!

Actually, the truth be known, I hope to purchase an electronic grand piano in the next year or two or three.

I could have purchased any number of pianos since retiring, but with the temperatures in our home fluctuating with the seasons and the humidity so low during the winter months, a conventional piano would be nearly impossible to keep tuned. 

I found this Medeli concert grand several years ago and decided then that one would be mine at some point in the future. If Emerson keeps practicing, maybe I'll let her play my piano some day!

Sunday was a lazy affair. I headed out the door early to clean an additional inch of snow off the drive, but with the below zero temperatures, I managed to flood the four wheeler and the snowblower refused to cooperate. There was nothing to do but scrape the snow by hand. Almost two hours were spent walking back and forth across the drive, pushing the fluffy white stuff. In the end, the drive was bare.

We made a quick trip to town for fried chicken and ham. Needless to say, Mom, Sargie, and I, ate well yesterday.

Yooper Brother Mark, my buddy, John in Alaska, and I, coached the Packers onto a narrow victory against the Chicago Bears. We blew a seventeen point lead in the fourth quarter and almost lost the game, but thankfully, Aaron Rodgers and Jordy Nelson came through and pulled out a last minute victory. We control our own destiny from now to the end of the regular season. We win the next two games, we're in the playoffs. If we lose one, our chances are slim to nil.

Sargie stayed busy in the kitchen making cookies (or as Grady calls them, "tookies.") Her peanut butter/coconut/oatmeal/chocolate/peanut butter chip cookies have become my favorite and it's hard to eat just one... or two... or three... or four. 

The deer have found the bird feeders in the back yard and aren't shy about walking out of the woods to graze on whatever morsel might have fallen to the ground. I don't care as long as they leave the shrubbery alone and stay out of the garden.

We watched movies yesterday afternoon and last night with Mom and Sargie especially enjoying The Sound of Music.

Yooper Brother Mark sent a couple of pictures of someone who got in a bit of a hurry to set out their ice shack on one of our local lakes.

I'm told the ice is about four inches thick, but it wasn't solid enough to support this side-by-side ATV and the ice shack it was towing. 

I'm planning on starting my ice fishing season this week, but I'll wait to set out my shack for another few days. There's plenty of winter ahead in which to fish and I'm in no rush.

I was crossing the Aggie River years ago in Alaska when my Tundra began to go through the ice. I hurriedly hopped off and breathed a sigh of relief when it caught on the edge of the ice by the back of the skis, facing up with the engine out of the water.

I crawled around back to the basket sled and retrieved a rope, come along, (hand winch) and ice axe. Eventually, I was able to unhook the sled, plant the axe in a crack in the ice, and winch the snowmobile onto a more solid surface. I can tell those boys who went through yesterday... been there/done that.

Sargie's back to work today and closes the Vision Center tonight. Mom and I will go to town later this morning so I can register the snowmobile. I don't plan to license it to ride the trails, but legally, it must be registered to ride alongside a public road or on a lake. After traveling tens of thousands of miles on a snowmobile across the arctic, joy riding on groomed trails doesn't appeal to me in the least. I look at a snowmobile much as one might a tractor or truck. It's a work vehicle.

Time to throw another log in the stove. That fire's not going to feed itself.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road... 

A wrecker was called from town and eventually, the side by side and fish shack were pulled to safety.