Emerson and Big Ben

December 11, 2016 - Sunday

6 degrees/light snow/calm winds

Pentoga Road

It looks like a Currier and Ives Christmas card out our windows this morning. Light snow is falling and the air is still. 

Mississippi Brother Garry sent a picture of Miss Jody's holiday cactus in full bloom. 

I well remember back in the early 60's, visiting Grandma and Grandpa Pennington. They lived on a lake in northern Minnesota and even in those early years, the winter months fascinated me.

One of my favorite memories is of going outside on a very cold evening and listening. At first it was silent, but as I stood, I would hear snow falling from the spruce bows, the rustling of small animals going about their nighttime business, and occasionally, far off in the distance, the sound of a plow pushing that day's snowfall.

It was during those visits that I fell in love with the far north. It was the same during my arctic years only on calm days, there'd  be no sound. Absolutely none.

At first it seemed spooky, surreal, but as the years chugged along, the complete absence of any sound became the new norm. Often, while visiting in the lower 48, I found any kind of background noise annoying. I was once staying two miles from an interstate highway and asked the host how he could stand the sounds of the trucks as they traveled over the tar strips. He looked at me like I was crazy and said he'd never noticed them. 

Other than the sound of the wood crackling in the stove this morning, it's quiet, providing for a wonderful Currier and Ives moment.

With the cold weather forecast to stay, ice fishing will begin within a week or two.

Saturday had to be one of the laziest days I've experienced in years. Finished with my writing, I thought I heard Sargie up and about in the bedroom and went upstairs to help her make the bed.

I was wrong. She was dozing, enjoying her day off. It was cold outside and I had absolutely no urge to leave the warm house. 

What to do?

I've said it before, I'll say it again. Mama didn't have no dummy.

I peeled off my clothes and went back to bed. It felt heavenly to spoon up to Sargie, one arm around her middle, holding her close, her hair smelling so good. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

Ever feel as though you were being watched?
Sargie's painting ornaments Saturday evening. 

We made our usual drive yesterday, going to town, buying fried chicken for a late afternoon meal, mailing Christmas cards, and enjoying each other's company. 

Once home, I busied myself carrying in wood. Sargie brought more totes out of the storage unit and spent part of the evening putting the finishing touches on decorating the house. 

Later in the evening, she set up shop and continued painting the snowmen that I've been turning. She's given each a unique character and has even gone as far as tying a little scarf around one's neck. 

Bedtime wasn't late last night. It never is and as usual, neither of us had any difficulty falling off to sleep.

My oldest son, Josh, sent a video of my grandson, Wyatt, at the pool. He reminds me so much of his daddy. Josh's mother and I used to occasionally check to be sure our boy didn't have webbing between his fingers and toes. He was born to swim and I've often wondered if he was a dolphin in his former life.

Josh's lung capacity far surpasses anyone I know. He thinks nothing of holding his breath under water for over two minutes or longer, so much so, that I used to haul him above the surface to make sure he wasn't drowning. 

It appears Wyatt has the same abilities. 

Sargie works from noon to five today. There is a winter weather advisory for several inches of snow and I wish she didn't have to drive. I'm going to keep the home fires burning and depending on which NFL games we get at noon, I'll either watch football or head to the shop. Green Bay plays Seattle at 3:30. I'll definitely be in front of the television for that one.

It's time to get Sargie up. I'm still dressed in my fluffy fifi house robe, the one that I'd never admit to wearing, but is the warmest piece of early morning clothing I own. Guess I ought to put on some man-clothes and get the day started.

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

So are the tales from Pentoga Road...

Get out of the way. I'm driving!