December 6, 2016 - Tuesday
31 degrees/cloudy/breezy
Pentoga Road

Are we ever stuck in an early winter rut. Temperatures daily seem to top out in the low to mid 30's and dip very little at night. The sun shone yesterday for a couple of hours, something we haven't seen in almost a week. The forecast is calling for much colder temperatures, below zero in the long term. It will soon be time to think about ice fishing. Put me in coach, I'm ready to play.

Sargie and Grady left on time on Monday morning. Grady was dropped off at his house and Grandma Sargie went on to work. Though she was supposed to be finished at five last night, it's was well after six before she left the Vision Center. 

Following my walk, I spent the entire day in the shop. Three more ornaments were turned, a conventional Santa, a tear-drop Santa, and something new for me, a Christmas tree.



The tree was a bit more of a challenge than I expected, mostly getting the chisel underneath the bows on each layer. It will all come. It just takes practice and patience. Practice is something I enjoy. Patience is a commodity that seems to be in short supply.

I finally finished cutting out the Old Man and the Sea and played around with several designs on making the frame last evening. I hope to have it completed today.

We almost had a catastrophe in the shop yesterday. I'd hung my heavy winter jacket on the back of the shop swivel stool, several feet from the propane heater. Brutus was sleeping on his bed directly in front. 

I had to come in the house for a few minutes. When I returned, the shop was filled with toxic fumes and the coat was smoking, about to catch on fire.

It appears that Brutus got up while I was gone, hit the swivel stool, causing it to swing around, putting the coat in direct contact with the heater. 

The poor pup was in a panic. After opening the window to clear the air, my little bulldog was hugged tightly and kissed on his nose and reassured everything would be alright. 

That whole incident about caused Brutus his life and the shop could have easily burned down. Live and learn and believe me, I learned. As it was, the only things ruined were my winter jacket and a huge chunk of my delicate ego.

Mississippi Brother Garry sent some artwork drawn by grandson, Nolan, or as I call him, James. In junior high school, James has a real gift and has won accolades for his work in the past. 

I just hope he remembers his Aunt Sargie and Uncle Tom when he's rich and famous. A Mississippian, James wants to come visit and spend a week or two in the North Country with us next summer. I hope he can! 

Sargie spent last evening painting a couple of snowmen. With pots of paint sitting on a TV tray, she worked as we watched television and enjoyed the evening together.

Sargie opens this morning. I received a call from the septic tank man and he's to be out sometime this morning to pump the tank. It's never been emptied since I've owned the house and it's time. With the ground so saturated, the tank isn't draining as fast as usual. 

I'm planning on spending the rest of the day in the shop. There are more ornaments to turn, frames to make, another scroll saw piece to begin. If only you had my life.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...